


Irken Property

by cupidty11



Series: Knotted [1]
Category: Invader Zim
Genre: Bromance, Destruction, Fighting, Gen, General, Hatred, Human, Irken, M/M, Other, ZADE, ZADF, a twisted kind of love, fitting, friends?, ic as possible, property, symboiant, take it slow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-07
Updated: 2015-01-08
Packaged: 2017-11-01 14:28:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 27,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/357869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cupidty11/pseuds/cupidty11
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enemies through Allies. </p><p>From the moment Zim stepped into Dib's 5th grade classroom, things were off kilter. Hatred bloomed and for years they've stood against each other as glorious enemies in the battle for Earth. But, times are changing and throughout their journey they may be forced to become more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Fighting but, Fitting

A scarred, scabbed fist is thrown out of temper and the rest is history. The tiny alien named Zim dodges, ducks away from the certain blow. With a war cry only an irken elite whose experienced death can manage, he flies at his opponent.

It’s rough, raw. It’s split knuckles, bloody noses and grunts of pain. It’s nothing but a primal domination game.  
And it’s wonderful.

They fight to the death (or more likely until they end up exhausted and broken on the black pavement). It’s a dance made out of searing intensity, fast swirling heated gazes, steps that have been memorized and hatred strong enough to rival any love.

Dib sees every move his enemy makes. He could easily move out of the way of sharp teeth made for cutting through tough meat, and deadly accurate claws. He does not.

The razor edges cut deep into his ivory flesh. It stings like salt in open wounds. Like being kicked when you’re down. And it disturbs the pool of numbness that surrounds Dib. That’s what he’d been searching for. It’s perfect. Perfect and personal on a level so great, that no one else could ever hope to comprehend . 

Maroon blood is seeping into the earth and Zim knows it’s just returning to its source. Dib IS Earth. The only thing worth having, taking, possessing.  
Their battle lasts only as long as one of them can keep their heads from touching the black top. 

The human is grabbing at any form of weakness; antenna which are hidden as usual underneath a black, itchy wig, and even below the belt. Of course it all ends up with Dib getting bitten and the hook like claws digging in deeper. Blood spills.

It’s over a lot sooner than either of them would most likely prefer. The two enemies lay bleeding, broken, bruised on the cooling street in the middle of it to be precise. The street lights flicker in the near dark of a amethyst evening, as if afraid to stay on too long and invoke their wrath.

It’s silent but for heavy breathing and coarse curses from Dib. And despite the fact that he would be completely worthless for a few days as his body healed itself, Dib had never felt better. There was a deep seated relish in these battles. The fact that no one else could match him so perfectly in everything there was to be matched in. Their fists and harsh words spelled out everything that would ever need to be said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that a lot of people hate ZaDr. It's understandable considering that many authors make it OOC and Mary-Sueish. I know that it seems impossible and a lunatic idea at best. But, it's my opinion that it's all one big circle for them. Complicated. It's a big knot of hatred, loyalty, companionship...ect.
> 
> I know for a fact that IF such a thing between them were to ever happen it wouldn't be kissing and hugging. It wouldn't be cute and perfect. The very idea is ridiculous. If anything of that level were to happen between them it would be complicated, twisted, confusing, and interspersed with hatred.
> 
> And any relationship needs TONS of character development. Especially one as wonderfully stupid, so great and improbable as Zim and Dib's.  
> So, here...I give it to you. Character development of the mind. Of personalities and based solely on what I've predicted on what they could be. Continuing rivalry. A possible friendship. And the impossible partnership.


	2. Symbiant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> symbiosis  
> [sim′bē·ō′sis]  
> Etymology: Gk, syn, together, bios, life  
> 1 a mode of living characterized by a close association between organisms of different species.  
> 2 a state in which two people are emotionally dependent on each other.

Never spoken of, never thought about or whispered in nights of pure loneliness when the crickets chirped and they sat together on top of his roof, the stars their only real source of light. The night was a shield from many things, mostly the reality that was their odd relationship. Because when the daylight broke the horizon and the birds replaced the insects in their singing, Zim and Dib became enemies again. At least in their minds this was true. 

But, as their teacher Miss. Bitters, reluctantly taught, some relationships were unavoidable. The two creatures, always from separate species fed off of each other. Needed one and other for survival. The clown fish and the sea anemone. Flowers and the honey bees. 

Unlikely and oh-so different, the creatures depended on the other for survival. It had been that way since time had brought them together. 

Zim growled when the laser never cut through the human’s flesh, for the Dib always had something of use to him and when all was said and done the idea of not having an enemy, of someone not being there to gasp at all the right moments of his evil plots, of never seeing the golden eyes that screamed the hatred that was never ending. Yes, Dib’s death had to be spectacular; it had to be fitting and mighty for one such as him. No ordinary shot to the brain would do. 

Dib lifted the unconscious irken off the ground, frowning as he did so. The water was still eating away at the moron’s skin, and it never occurred to him to leave his enemy there. Human compassion went too far, his out of place loyalty and urges to treat Zim with hope that he himself would one day have the favor returned. Because if Zim was injured then it meant that it would take longer for him to get back up and fight. It would means days of boredom and more minutes to count until they met again. 

They always returned to point A, denying the need to see the other fall. The even bigger need to see the other stand back up again and laugh. The cover up the fate of Earth when neither really cared about the orb of idiots and trash. But, what else could be a good excuse to keep meeting?

Stumbled upon point B once or twice, to begin to recognize the other’s favorite foods and the crooked tilt to his smile, the smallest words that lit their eyes with joy. Then something happened and they couldn’t stand each other, the way they twisted their words around to mean one thing. The hatred was returned, welcome and viciously they fought until someone bled out on the floor, near to death and mouth shut to avoid any noise of surrender. 

Then common sense, their own individual excuse kicked in and they rescued their enemy from the death they had almost certainly caused. 

A messed up cycle that kept repeating, repeating, repeating because Dib hated himself and his peers, his father who ignored him, the voices in his head that sounded like those monsters. Zim was the thing, the vile stupid thing, that made the doubts and fears disappear in a blast of vitality and distractions. The alien was the bad guy, and Dib was the hero, the savior. 

It repeated and repeated and repeated because Zim hated himself and his people who laughed at him behind his back, even as denial was a wonderful tool to have at your disposal. Hated his henchmen who could never do anything right. It just reminded Zim of how things used to be on Irk and how it used to be in the academy. How he could never do anything correctly either. 

But, then out of the corner of his eye he would catch a glimpse of that meat sack and the worries would fly out the window, replaced with the conviction to destroy the planet, adrenaline to fight back with someone equally matched in everything he could throw at him. Zim could be destructive and defective and the human thought it came naturally for him, thought it was a threat and more than just stupidity as well as bad genes. 

Yes, because even if they wanted to be free of one another, there was more need to be stuck together forever, in the cycle that was becoming fastly common place. 

Ms. Bitters kept talking and talking, it was a drone in Dib’s ears, in Zim’s antenna, as they sent each other sly glances. Their organs clenched with the welcome feeling of hatred, hands shook as the clocked ticked, closer to the time they could stand and battle out the latest argument. 

Neither heard the word that their horrible teacher used to describe such relationships that happened between two species, “Symbiant.”


	3. Red Sky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> and Gym class.

_'I hate him.'_

_'His head. It's…huge. Like a hippo. Only bigger.'_

_'I really hate him.'_

_'Jet plane size maybe? Eh.'_

_'Freaking alien menace.'_

_'Oh wow. It's like throwing him off balance.'_

 

Zim snickers at his own mental humor, not bothering to hide it as per usual. Dib hears it and glowers in the moron's direction. Instinct tells him that he is the subject of the alien's amusement. They were panting heavily as they ran around the track for 3rd period gym class. Their fellow classmates zoomed past them, giving the freaks a wide berth just in case they wanted to get physical which more often than not was the case.

"Shut up, Space-Boy."

"You don't even know what Zim is laughing about, Stink Brain."

"My head."

"Lucky guess."

"Mmhmm. Whatever. After," Dib gasps for air, as they turn the corner on their final lap. "this hell, I'm gonna pound your face in." Zim managed to wave off the threat, trying to look unaffected by the exercise. Really how did the Earthlings manage to create a training experience more grueling than the academy's own 'Leg Crusher 2000'?

"You will not," Gasp, "touch my perfect face." Their feet hit the track at the same time, the same pace with the same sound of rubber hitting pavement.

"Oh, I" Pant. "Will, you moron."

"Nuh uh! You lie!" Everyone else was already at the finish line, waiting for the two freaks reluctantly. The coach held his timer up in the air as a warning that they had ten seconds left in the countdown until they had to run a whole extra lap. Dib's competitive instincts kicked in (as well as the severe desire to not run another inch) and he zoomed ahead. Zim wasn't far behind. He would never let the human beat him.

"Five seconds, whelps!"

Dib and Zim passed the finish line with 1.3 seconds to spare. They also were on the ground hitting each other with quickly weakening energy. Now that they had finished the other kids sighed with obvious relief and began to walk off down the hill to head back inside their Skool, while the boys wrestled. Dib gave one last flimsy punch that did little of anything to his enemy before falling backwards into the grass, breathing harshly, so harshly that it hurt Zim's hidden antenna.

"I…hate…you." He hacked a cough; green grass tickled his pinkened ears. Zim scowled sideways at the human, feeling like his squeedely spooch was going to burst with exertion.

"Hate you…more." Together they stared up at the red sky, breathing slowly in and out, pulses thundering. It was almost nice. There was no other noise escape for the air coming from their lungs, wind and the distant noise of traffic…and the bell rang signaling that 4th period had ended. Dib grunted and sat up feeling a head rush come on and it made him wince. Zim's eyes shot open from where they had wilted closed from how relaxed he'd been. Disguised irises warily regarded his enemy who seemed to be finally be recovering. 'Pity.' Zim thought.

"Come on, Space-Boy." The human struggled to stand up, brushing grass blades and dirt from his behind and hair."If we hurry we might be able to make it to 5th period." Zim's forehead furrowed when the boy's glasses reflected the hideous sun into his eyes. From this angle he could see every shade of amber and brown in the Dib's filthy irises. With an obviously displeased grunt the almighty Zim shoved himself to his feet and walked over to Dib who had been waiting impatiently. Together they made their way down the hill and towards the school.

 


	4. Bickering is an Art

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That only we've perfected.

Back and forth the insults flew. A rhythm that rivaled any song. It was perfected, trusted and easy. There was violence in the words but an underlying normality that anyone other than the two of them would never see or feel. Nearly eight years together, their yelling had become a constant. The fights had grown pathetic and while the hatred was obviously still there it had lessened considerably. Without noticing they had come to mean something so much more than enemies. They finished each other's sentences, knew every excuse, every weakness. There was an amount of trust there. Zim would never let Dib die unless under his hand and Dib, well Dib just wanted to be the one to expose Zim for what he truly was. Or at least that was the façade. They knew that as long as their fight continued neither would ever be in danger from anyone else.

So, yes, the screams of rage and sly sarcasm and pithy statements all developed into a intricate pattern of expressions, tones of voice, body movement. The alien and the human knew the pattern like a large scar. The beginning had been painful, bloody and reckless. The time had passed and seasons and years went by. The scar healed over and now it was always there as a reminder of what they had once been and what they were now.

Enemies of the worst kind. Sworn, mortal, destined. Their minds challenged each other, their physical strength rivaled one and others and to top it all off they annoyed the living crap of each other. In every way they were incompatible and yet…

Zim's eyes, disguised of course, narrowed in pure rage, they shone their distrust in the direction of a certain teenager who walked by his side, hands in his ragged jean pockets and a shit-eating grin plastered in a face made of sleepless nights. The leaves scattered out of their way.

"Oh why you little—" Zim ground out, hands clenching as if already feeling themselves wrapping around Dib's neck.

"No, no. You will find that you are the little one here, Mr. 4 feet 2 inches." The human shot back, a rock becoming his victim as it shot out from under his swift kick and skidded across the street to never be seen or thought of again.

The alien's rage was palpable now. "LIES! Zim has grown several earth inc—" He stopped himself, mentally reminding himself not to get off track. It was very hard to think rationally though when the human was so Irk damn annoying. "Stink-Brain! Cease distracting me! You know full well that the behavior earlier was unacceptable!"

Dib raised a brunette eyebrow. "Um. Excuse me? What behavior?" Casual question, for a less than casual accusation. The beginning. The low rumble. A bass that you feel low in your stomach, or in this rare case squeedely spooch. Anticipation that really shouldn't be there. That should've withered out long ago. But, it's been years and it's been wonderful.

Zim growled, and Dib could almost see the crimson shining out from behind Zim's contacts. The tiny invader took one giant (or rather giant for him, about a foot) step towards the human and poked his skinny, bony chest with a gloved finger adamantly. "The behavior of a typical moronic human! You were being…normal." Zim shivered in revulsion at the thought but recovered himself quickly. "And THAT!" He poked harder. A splash of paint. A swift bang on a drum. "THAT behavior will not continue!"

Dib usually had no problem keeping his cool. In fact, he was a very patient person. He'd had no choice in learning to be one. But, the pokes with sharp claws, a head ache he'd already had before the alien had opened his fat mouth and the fact that he'd been acting supposedly 'normal' because it had started out as a good day and he'd actually talked to the new kid who wasn't so bad and he had no idea yet that Dib was a freak. A real friend was in reach. Who knows maybe um…Jim? John? Jacob? Eh, it didn't matter. Whoever they were, they might even stick around after the rumors began to reach him.

Dib liked that idea immensely. But, here Zim was, sticking his nose, well his lack of nose into DIB'S business. "Shut up, you over grown lizard! I can do whatever I want. You don't control me—" Zim scowled harder and stepped closer into the human's personal area. The drum was rolling, the bass heavy…paint dripped steadily, the stage was prepped for the first act.

"And that is where you are WRONG, Monkey-Brain! Zim owns you! He owns the World and everything in it! Including you!" A hard poke to the middle of His human's nose. His. Then there was the explosion.

"The world is not yours! You—you, I hate you, you narcissistic moron! None of this is yours! It doesn't belong to anyone! Especially not you! And I don't have to do anything you tell me! You're not my friend, you're not even an acquaintance!"

"As if, Dib-Crazy! I would never wish to be friends with someone like you. Zim doesn't need friends for one and for two,"

"It's secondly, Stupid."

"SILENCE!"

"NO!" Dib growled, his left eye twitching. This was normally a cue. Time for someone to throw the first punch. And within seconds someone did. Whoever did it didn't matter. All that mattered was the swift movements in between the fists flying, the dramatic swings and the words exchanged in between. They had a rhythm to them and it was perfected, down to the last syllable.

They ended as they normally did; panting heavily, wiping off the excess blood and luxuriating in the after math of their violence, admiring their handy work…their work of art. Dib glared down at the smear of bright red on his hand where he'd whipped off his bottom lip. There was also a few drops of pink alien blood mingling together. His mind wandered as Zim began his normal after-fight rant, to John or Jacob or Jim. In the end it didn't matter, he decided. HE didn't matter.

What other person would ever understand the beauty of this? Who wanted fake friends who stabbed you in the back? He would much rather have a real enemy who stabbed him in the front, with a sadistic smile.


	5. Another Counselor Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Is this ‘nothing’…Zim?” She said the name cautiously; aware of how he’d reacted last time this subject was brought up. And like last time his shoulders went stiff, body tense and Pike could see the arrogance and calm practically melt away. Immediately, Dib was twitchy, jaw clenched.

It was a Wednesday which was a good enough explanation as any for why everyone was irritable. This day was always hell which made it an especially busy one for Miss. Pike the schools newest counselor in a long line of them. Ever since Mr. Dwicky had gone AWOL nearly four years ago, the school couldn’t seem to keep any counselor employed for more than a year. They all quit or went missing or in one memorable occasion became a mental patient himself.

They all came in with a sunny disposition and good intentions. That was before they met the kids and saw the state that the school was kept in. The environment was a toxic one that many didn’t last long in. Not unless you already had a bit of a screw lose.

It was Miss. Pike’s first month here and she was cleaning out records, going through them. All of them were…extensive. Many an inch thick with misdemeanors, disciplinary actions, and previous illnesses and special needs. A few were rather interesting and might need urgent care.  
Her fingers slid over the folders to a book in the very back. It was like it had been shoved there between the rest of the files. With a bit of difficulty, Pike managed to pry the book from the shelf only to realize a second later that it wasn’t a book but, a student’s permanent record.

Mouth agape, she heaved onto the desk where a cloud of dust billowed up. Coughing softly, Pike opened the file that was bolted together, to the first page. Many words popped put at her; _anti-social, extensive bullying, anxiety disorder, neglectful childhood’_. Nothing good. But, nothing unsalvageable. Still, the rest of the afternoon was spent reading up on what she expected would be her most troublesome ‘patient’,

\--  
Quickly, Miss. Pike discovered that no one came to the counselor willingly. And she had a lot to do, reorganizing things and trying to clean the place up. But, within the first three weeks at school, not one person came to her with a problem. This was significant. This was Highskool. Highskool was a practical battlefield and not only that but, the first months were the worst while kids tried to adapt to a new year.

She chalked it up to lack of knowledge about a counselor and maybe these kids were just used to this environment that it didn’t bother them anymore. In her spare time, she read the files. But, more specifically THE File. Dib’s file. She was only halfway through the book when she decided she should check up on him. From the text, many ideas already swarmed in her head about how to help him.

But, there was also this…Person(?), who seemed to take up just as much room in the file as Dib’s name did; Zim. The idea entered her head to call him down as well, but she quickly discarded it. They obviously did not like each other and her first session with Dib should be private. Another day.  
So during his Study Hall period, she sent a pass down. A few minutes later, there was a tentative knock at the door.

“Come in!” Pike responded, sitting up straight and ready. The door creaked open and the boy who stepped through was nothing like his picture that was stapled to the corner of the file. That boy in the photo was young, eyes filled with curiosity and innocence. That boy was short, holding onto the last vestiges of baby fat and youth. 

This boy, the one who stood uncertainly in the doorway was tall. Taller than her anyway and skinny as a stick. Like he forgot to eat nearly all the time. Tan skin, made sickly pale by lack of sun, long limbs covered with draping black fabric and useless buckles.

Dib’s hair was wild and luckily just like the picture but for its length which had grown. His face was impassive, closed off. This Dib had eyes that flickered everywhere suspiciously, studying his surroundings. Paranoid and self-conscious.

“What am I here for?” Dib asked, in a low voice that was still growing in. “I haven’t done anything wrong. That food fight was his fault.” Miss. Pike blinked a few times then smiled, hoping it looked sincere and warm.

“No, no. You’re not in any trouble. I’m Miss. Pike.” She stood and held out her hand. Dib eyed it uncertainly for a few moments before shaking it for about a half a second. “I’m the new counselor.”

Brown eyes widened with understanding. “Oh.” Pause as he looked around the place he’d been in more times than he could count. It was clean, for once. Sparsely decorated. But, warm with several baskets of what looked like toys and coloring books. Plenty of tissues too. “Good luck.”  
“Um, thank you.” She smiled and went back behind her desk to sit in the rolling chair there. “Dib. Do you have any idea why I called you down?” A manicured hand gestured towards a chair in front of the desk. He licked his lips and sat.

“Uh. You saw my record.” Dib replied gravely.

“Yep.” Pike said, grabbing the book and heaving it in front of them. The boy had a sudden moment of déjà vu. “It’s pretty big.”

“I guess.” Dib looked anywhere but at the folder.

“Look, Dib, it’s not a bad thing. This file.” She grabbed a slinky from one of the baskets and began playing with it.

“It’s not?” Skeptically, he watched her, eyebrow raised.

“Not at all! You have problems. But, everyone does. You’ve had a tough past and that’s no—“

“Can I stop you right there?” Dib interrupted, brow furrowed. “Sorry, but my ‘past’ wasn’t tough. My present isn’t tough. And my future won’t be tough either.” She opened her mouth but, he held up his hand. She fell silent, obediently. “That stuff,” Dib looked down his nose at the file. “Is all true. I’m bullied every day. People hate me because I’m smart and attractive but, I don’t do anything about it. I’m rich but, I don’t spend it on clothes and fancy parties. They don’t like how I dress or act or talk, so they hate me. I’m okay with that. Why try to impress somebody who you know will never like you for you?”

She wanted to encourage but, he was still going. Pike figured that this what the file talked about when it said ‘tends to go on rants when provoked’. “My Dad is never home. Like I think he’s at work 354 days out of the year. And when he is home, he works in his lab. I love my dad. He’s ignorant and dramatic and he hates what I want to do with my life. But, I respect him. I’ve never needed a father figure. I raised myself and my sister. I turned out fine and he’s always given me everything I need. So we never wanted for food or warm bed or clothes or even fancy toys.”

“I was a kid and too wise for my age. I’m a teen now and too wise for my age. And when I’m an adult I’ll be older than everyone around me. I’m not filled with angst and insanity. I know you want to help the poor crazy boy. But, I really don’t need it anymore. All I need right now is to pass High Skool. And maybe a sandwich. So, unless you can help me with either of those…”

Miss. Pike shook her head. He nodded. “Then we’re clear?” She smiled, softly.  
“Crystal. But, Dib…”

“What?” He asked, impatient, wanting to leave and eat said sandwich.

“What about Zim?” Dib froze. She had hit a nerve and the backlash would be memorable.

“What ABOUT him?” The teenager asked stiffly, jaw clenched, fists clenched and eyes on fire.

“His name shows up about as much as yours does in here.” She gestured toward the file. “He’s important. More important than bullying and your father apparently. He takes up pages upon pages…who is he? What is he like? What is your relationship to him?”

Dib stared at her a bit longer before running a hand down his face, mumbling. Finally, he sat up straight, almost jerkily. “Look, lady. Thanks for, you know, caring. But, Zim is…Zim is far beyond this.” His arms flew out to indicate the room and her and pretty much everything. “Zim is not something you can cure or use to make me better.” The longer that Dib talked, the more his entire body seemed to move about jerkily, the more he seemed to twitch and fidget. “Zim is the problem and the solution and so not what you want to get into right now. So thanks…but, no thanks.”

With that he grabbed his back pack and stalked out of the room, letting the door swish softly shut behind him. Miss. Pike let a huge breath out of her mouth, blinking a bit before grabbing the file and putting it away for now. Whoever this Zim was, he was the key to Dib’s problems. The boy was very mature, mentally far beyond any kid his own age if his test results were any indication. Still, he did have problems. Ones that could develop more in life, ones that must be a burden even if he wouldn’t admit it.

She put her head in her hand, huffing. Next time, and there would be a next time, they would talk about Zim. Maybe if she garnered more information she could gain his trust and help him better. Pike nodded determinedly and set to work, calling down the next student.

\--

The next time she saw Dib it was Homecoming week. The entire skool was papered with giant banners in the skool colors, which covered the grease and water stains that seemed to reproduce as the years went by. People were chipper, but not so much about the spirit in skool as they were about the free food and getting out of class to go to lame assemblies that never seemed to hold anyone’s attention.

Pike figured with everything going on, she could call Dib down and he wouldn’t miss much. Off the pass went and ten minutes later there was a knock at the door. “Come in!” She called, sitting up straight, hands on the desk in front of her.

The door squeaked open and Dib stepped inside, eyeing the space before settling on her. Behind the wire rimmed glasses, brown eyes were dark and though he didn’t show it much on the surface she could tell he was annoyed.

“Sit, please, Dib.” He took his raggedy back pack off and sat it on the floor before flopping down in the chair. Silence. He raised an eyebrow.

“Any reason I’m here? It can’t be because of anything I’ve done recently because nothing major has happened and you’ve already proven you don’t see students because of their petty misdemeanors. So you must want to talk about my record more.” It was her turn to raise her eyebrows.

“You’re very observant.” Pike pulled out the book and let it sit on the table between them like last time. “I do want to talk. Not about the record…per say. I want to talk about you, not the words on these papers. Like you said last time, you’re very wise for your age and the people who wrote these records are not me. And most definitely not you. I’d like to know you, Dib.”

She could see him calculating, assessing her words for truth. And that made her even more curious. What had occurred to cause Dib to develop these skills? Skills like observations and being suspicious of a room before you even walk into it, analyzing people and their words for any hidden meanings…

“Fine, Ms.Pike. Ask your questions. And I’ll do my best to answer them.” A wave of surprise and relief washed over her. That was…easy.  
“Thank you, Dib. I’d like to begin with something that was mentioned a lot in here. The Paranormal.” She said, quoting the records. “You like the supernatural, then? Like Ghosts and UFOs and things?” The boy rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest and settling back, as if preparing for a long stay.

“You could say that. I’ve liked it since I was a kid. If those records are accurate, you know my father is a pretty big scientist. From ‘birth’ I’ve been pressured to fit into his shoes and like science because I was to take over his Empire.” Dib shrugged. “I mean, I get the stuff, it’s easy. Too easy. But, the supernatural is hidden and just waiting to be discovered. So, I went for that instead.”

There was a pattern… “You say these things in past tense. Do you not like it anymore?”

Dib sighed. “Of course I do. It’s just kind of taken a back seat to other things.” ‘Other things’ was said with much annoyance.  
“What are these ‘other things’ Dib?” He grit his teeth and looked away from her.

“Nothing.” Well, that was a ‘something’ if she had ever heard one before. Pike grabbed her pen and flicked it back and forth between her fingers for a few moments while the seconds ticked by.

“Is this ‘nothing’…Zim?” She said the name cautiously; aware of how he’d reacted last time this subject was brought up. And like last time his shoulders went stiff, body tense and Pike could see the arrogance and calm practically melt away. Immediately, Dib was twitchy, jaw clenched.  
“No! Zim is, Zim is like I said none of your business and not even, like worth talking about. Because he’s stupid and just ugh—“Dib forced himself to stop talking and take a huge, deep breath. “No. Zim is not ‘other things’. Zim is just a moron who is one of my more exhaustive tormentors.”

Ms. Pike’s pen had stopped wiggling for those few seconds that Dib had lost his cool. She put the pen down. “Dib, does talking about him upset you?”  
“No.” Dib ran a hand through his hair which was already kind of mused. “No, it does not. I just…hate him.”

“Why? If you don’t mind me asking, that is.” He scowled at her before breaking the gaze to stare around her room again.  
“Well, Why not? I hate him for a billion reasons. Many of which make sense. Some that only I understand and some that will make you want to throw me into the Crazy House for Boys which is where they all want to put me when I tell them. However, I’ve grown almost fond of that stupid place. They used to have a room for me you know? Permanent. Of course, I haven’t gone in forever so it might be gone.”

Ms. Pike blinked, tilting her head to the side. Was this about Zim being an—

“But, if you want to know why I hate him…well,” He raised his hands and began to count off on his fingers. “He’s a moron who can’t do anything right. He makes fun of my head. He is arrogant to the extreme and has no reason to be. His voice is ear shatteringly loud, so loud my doctor said I had to be more careful because I’m losing hearing in my left ear. Which, coincidence? is the ear he yells in every.single.morning. He makes no sense nearly all the time, though he does have his moments. He plays these stupid pranks on me that more often than not cause bodily harm.”

The more that Dib talked about Zim, she could see his calm start to deteriorate. “Everything he does turns into some sort of escapade that I have to interfere with lest anyone die. He wears a dress. Every single day. Like it never changes. Ever. Like I wouldn’t care if ANYONE wore a dress, but it’s the same! That’s gross. Unless he has like a ton of them, which I wouldn’t be surprised if he did. He’s a pretentious douchebag, who thinks everyone is under him. And last but most certainly not least, is the small fact that he’s an alien who wants to destroy the planet!”

All of Dib’s fingers were up, hands in the air and his voice had slowly increased in volume throughout his rant, until he was yelling and Pike was biting her lip, wondering if anyone could hear them. A few moments of silence went by and he dropped his hands. Panting lightly and frowning.   
“You asked.” Dib mumbled. She smiled softly.

“You’re right. I did. And I’ve read all the files. But, I’ll tell you what; I’m an open minded person and I never discount evidence. Will you answer one more thing for me, Dib? Then I’ll let you get back to class.” The boy nodded stiffly, going back to his upright, uptight position. “What do you like about Zim?”

The teen’s eyes narrowed thought he was taken aback, eyebrows furrowing together and an expression of disgust forming. “No way. I’m not answering that.”

“It’s an exercise, Dib. It will help me get a better idea of what I’m dealing with here. Just a few things. There has to be something you admire about him. Something small?”

Dib was torn. He really wanted to leave. But, he also didn’t want to say anything good about his worst enemy. Eventually the desire to ditch this place won out. With a long suffering sigh, he crossed his arms and looked anywhere but at the counselor.

“Well…” He ran a hand down his face, thinking. “He’s…determined.”

“Good. Can yo—“

“I’m not done, yet.” Dib scolded, and Pike blinked nodding as a sign to continue. “He’s determined. Which I can both admire and relate to. He gets things done. Although, sometimes I think it’s only through pure stupidity that he manages to get through the day. But, maybe that’s his secret, Yanno? And he’s smart in some things. Like science. Best at it in the class. Even better than me which by the way you didn’t hear me say. But, gosh he sucks at math.” The teen shook his head, hair flopping around as he remembered the time when Zim had gotten so frustrated at the subject he’d thrown his book across the room and then began to rip up Dib’s.

“He’s passionate about…fuc-sorry, everything. Passionate in his hatred and his people and his stupid evil plans. Zim looks at everything like it’s a new thing to conquer. And he does it head on too. No messing around or procrastinating. Normal people say they want something but, don’t go for it, as if expecting it’s just gonna fall in their lap. Another thing we have in common I guess. Oh. And his eyes. I mean, not the really horrible fake ones but his real ones. They’re pretty cool. Like I would love having eyes like that.”

He was looking down at his hands now, frown increasing as he realized what he’d just divulged. Miss. Pike blinked and wrote down a few things. 

“Okay. Now I’m done.” She nodded.

“Well, Dib…thank yo—“

“Can I go now?” The young paranormal investigator interrupted, impatiently.

“Dib. Just…it sounds like you admire more things about Zim than you hate about hi—“

“I want to leave.”

“Dib, please just think about maybe doing something differe—“

“Like what?” He barked, already grabbing the straps of his backpack and fumbling with the zipper.

“Like instead of being mean to Zim…trying to be friends with hi—“

“No.”

“What?”

“I said no.” the detective pulled his backpack on and shoved away from the chair. “We’re enemies now and will always be that way. For Earth.” Without waiting for her to try and convince him again, he fled from the room, storming down the hallway. Pike sighed and ran a hand down her face.  
Things were complicated. More complicated than she’d ever predicted. There was much inside of Dib, he was a puzzle. One that fought back and seemed to be blinded by what he’d been told his whole life. She could see it perfectly though.

Was this too hard, she thought for a second. Could she really help him? The counselor began putting her stuff away for the day. Only if he wanted to be helped. And she didn’t think Dib knew how to be helped. He only knew clawing his way to where he wanted to be, independent and cut off from everyone. 

That loneliness hadn’t seemed to have hit him yet. Or maybe it had and he was just very good at hiding it. Humans needed companionship. It was a law. And whether it came from an animal or another person was another matter entirely.

But, Dib had neither. No one…but, Zim. And unless he breached that barrier that seemed to hang there, she was afraid one day he’d realize how alone he was and just…give up. Dib needed Zim and Zim was the one person in his life that seemed to really matter.  
If they could become friends…maybe it would just save him. Pike closed her filing cabinet and leaned against it with a sigh. Maybe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part one of two. Dib is getting grilled. I imagine him rather calm as he grows up, used to not being heard and accepting it. But, the second that Zim comes into the conversation he's back to his old self, twitchy and yelling, ranting.


	6. They're Normal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> People get out of their way. It's kind of instinctive. No one has to even think about avoiding them anymore, step away, out of the line of fire. It's natural. Just like how no one talks to them anymore or even blinks at their fights.
> 
> A.N.: The person's narrating is Gretchen.

_8:10 am, Home Room._

_I look across the room. Dib is in the sixth seat to the left in the 8th row. He's wearing his new shirt again. It looks delicious on him, so I can't complain. Even if there are blood stains on the sleeves. As always his attention isn't on me, or what our horrible teacher is saying, but rather on Him. Zim. The crazy, green kid who wears more pink than normal girls do. So, the beautiful golden eyes are focused exactly three inches away from me, on the right side of the class, 6 seats away from me. I am literally caught in the middle._

_8:12 am, still Home Room._

_Dib just scratched his nose! OMG._

_10:15 am, Computer class._

_How dull. But, I also have it with Dib, and that makes all the dreary, glowing screens worth it. Or at least it would've if Zim weren't in here too._

_They are talking now. Well, not so much talking as yelling, arguing. They sit only a few feet away from each other…and it's computer class! It's all about processors and megabytes! There's hardly anything to talk about, let alone get into a turbulent debate. But, there they are._

_The teacher makes the same mistake all of them do: Making the two of them partners. Zim and Dib do work together well, even if they are angry as hell while doing it._

_Dib is making big gestures, waving an ancient looking floppy disk in the air. He wants to use it. He says the older the technology, the less likely it has bugs. Then Zim is hitting Dib with something shiny, probably his version of the floppy disk. He's screaming about how his technology is working just fine._

_It goes on like that for the rest of the period. I don't know which they picked because they start doing the thing where they whisper with their heads close together, like they have a big secret._

_Dib looks beautiful._  
\--

"Oh, come on! It's the obvious choice! Plenty of space, less bugs and look, Space-Boy, it's your favorite color!" Dib points to the floppy disk's bright, salmon pink. The Invader's face wrinkles in disgust.

"LIES! Zim despises that color."

"Then why do you wear it so much?"

"Blegh! This is the standard Invader Uniform and its magenta! Are you blind?! Or is your antenna not in the right position to receive signals?"

"My antenna?"

"Yes, your hair, you FOOL!"

"My hair doesn't receive any sort of--Okay, okay!" Dib held up a hand to stop the fight for a second. "Can we just decide what to use and get on with it? I want to get this over with." Zim sniffed disdainfully but nodded, pulling a very shiny and lethal looking silver disk with the predictable Irken symbol on the front.

"What, for the love of God, is that?" Dib asked, almost afraid to glance at it. Part of him wanted to snatch the thing away, decode its secrets and drool over the amazing technology of alien descent. The other part wanted to get his way. The bad thing was that the latter part was much more stubborn.

Zim smirked knowingly, which made Dib want to punch him all the more. "This, young Dib-Smeet, is the IX67. The highest in Irk-Vort technology. The best in all the Universe. It can hold up to 2000 LGH, or in your pitiful human technology, approximately 5 Million YottaBytes."

Dib barely contained his mouth as it almost flopped open in pure awe. The disk seemed to shine in the light, displaying its glory. It's overly exhaustive glory. He itched to touch it. But, of course Dib would never reveal his amazement. Not to this alien scum. He would just steal the thing later. He was getting better at pick pocketing.

"Looks, stupid." He said casually, throwing in just the right amount of disdain in order to the get the Irken's back up. His hand grabbed the floppy disk and smirked widely.

"Come on, Zim. We don't need that much space for such a tiny project. Besides, better earthian technology. It's simple." He waves the floppy disk before the irken's eyes. 

"Therefore it has less room for bugs and viruses... Unlike that fancy thing you have there. Probably doesn't even work correc—AHHHGH!" Dib screeched as the big, shiny disk was brought over his head, numerous times. He was too shell-shocked to do anything at first, other than stare at Zim's angry, flushed face.

"My technology works just fine! SEE! IT'S WORKING NOW! IT'S NEW JOB IS TO DESTROY YOOOOOU!" Down the disk went; down, down. Again and again. Zim mentally pictured the Dib's brains all over the floor and smirked evilly. 

Dib growled and snatched the silver thing away before his head cracked open or he went postal. It didn't really hurt so much as it annoyed the crap out of him. "Okay, STOP. I get the point." He sighed and pressed the thing into the computer. "But, if it fries the system I'm blaming you." He said, clicking the mouse to begin their work.

Zim looked properly smug.  
\--

_12:15 PM_

_It's lunch time. People are loud and obnoxious. My lunch looks toxic, as always. No one sits near me._

_Dib's tray is full but pushed to the far end of his table. His sister is on the other side of the room, is in the corner with her gamer/stoner friends. He looks lonely. I could go try to sit by him, maybe make him smile and laugh. I could. But, I don't._

_Zim comes through the cafeteria doors like a tornado. He shoves kids out of his way, food flying and people inching away from his path of destruction. Heavy boots snap against the tile floor as he storms over to the line and grabs his own tray of slop before swirling over to Dib and slamming himself down across from him._

_They glare at each other as if this isn't normal._

_Zim sneers as he shoves the blue tray of indigestible food away. Through my lashes I can see silence. Neither move, but for the glaring. Then the argument starts. Just something small. Something to hold them over during lunch. Probably about classes or Zim's new 'evil' plan. The way Dib is slamming his fist on the table and gesturing towards the trays…maybe it's about the food. A spork is grabbed between his fingers and oh no._

_Dib's eating it, the lunch, as if to spite the green weirdo. It's probably all pride. I know that Dib will be sick later. Zim knows it too as he smiles triumphantly._  
\--

"-superior to human stomachs."

"Oh, oh really?"

"UH-huh!"

"Oh really?!"

"Yep!"

"So, what about the fact that you can't even eat meat or pudding or beans, huh? How is that superior?" Dib was going to win this argument. It was a stupid one anyway. Not that it didn't get on his nerves, or feel just as important as every other fight that had come before. 

Zim sniffed, disdainfully. "Well, who wants to eat any of those things anyway? They're stupid. Besides at least I've eaten that FILTH," a gloved claw pointed at one of their trays. "before and lived to tell the tale. I don't think you've ever done that before, stink-breath. Have you, have you?"

"No! But, that doesn't make you in any way, shape, or form superior! In fact, you're weaker." His logic wasn't exactly sound, but Dib was sticking to it.

"Well, then why don't you eat the poison- I mean, food and prove me wrong, eh?" Zim asked, buffing his nails. Gloved nails. Moron. Dib growled and looked at the tray. The 'food' that sat in one of the little cubbies, bubbled and frothed a sickly greenish color. It could've been soup. Or jello. Or a mix. Who even knew?

"Fine! I will. Because humans are better than Irkens, any day."

His fingers curled around his spork and quickly scooped up a spoonful. He only hesitated a second…before putting it in his mouth and feeling his stomach lurch almost instantly. Swallowing was another challenge entirely that required his full concentration and all the will power he had. 

Still, when it was done, Dib felt accomplished. At least until he glanced up and saw the alien's stupid smug smile. The moron knew it would make him sick! Groaning, he clutched his stomach and hit his head on the table. "You jerk."

Zim's answer was an evil chuckle.

\--  
 _1:10 PM._

_Math class. It's decently easy for me. Dib is the best in class. But, Zim sucks. I write this with too much happiness. Maybe because I'm a teeny, tiny bit jealous. I know that's stupid. To be jealous of someone so ugly and a boy no less. And not only that but, Dib HATES him. Still…there's something about Zim that makes me feel he would fight me to the death for Dib._

_As always the teacher has shoved the two of them together. I guess it's almost like a tutoring thing. Everyone can hear them bicker bitterly. Zim doesn't understand and that infuriates him. No matter how patient Dib is, no matter how many times he tries to explain it goes in one ear and out the oth—oh. Well, if he had ears it would go in one and out the other. That's kind of weird right? No ears. Well, Zim is weird in general so I guess it doesn't matter._

_Zim's voice is really high pitched and he yells a lot. My head hurts._

_Finally, he throws his math book across the room where it makes a horrible racket, before he grabs up Dib's book too and begins to tear it to pieces. Dib watches for a second, just like the rest of the class. Then he growls and grabs Zim's wrists, twisting till the text book falls from his claws._

_No one knows what to do. And I'm frozen. I'm always frozen._

\--

"And what does this stupid little squiggle mean?" Zim questioned, rubbing his chin. Dib on the other hand sighed and contemplated using the standard issue Geometry textbook to bash the irken's head in. 

"For the 18th time, that means it's congruent to the other one." 

"Well, it makes no sense! Why does a squiggle mean that? Why don't they just say it's conflagrant?" Zim flailed his arms, non-existent brow furrowed angrily. Dib pinched the bridge of his nose. 

"They DO. That's what the squiggle means. And it's congruent, Zim. Not conflagrant." And Dib wasn't even sure if he knew what conflagrant meant. Not that it really bothered him at the moment. Nothing bothered him as much as Zim. Zim was the bane of his existence and took up every single second of annoyance that Dib had. 

Zim huffed, crossing his arms and staring down at the textbook as if it was some sort of slimy creature that had begged for mercy, and the Irken was deciding whether or not to give it, even though he knew all along that he wouldn't. Or something stupid like that.

"None of this makes any sense." The alien declares, arms thrown wide open and nearly hitting Dib upside the head. This is enough to rile him up. As if he wasn't already riled. He's always riled when it comes to Zim. 

"Well, maybe it would make sense if you paid attention in class instead of doing…whatever it is you do instead of paying attention."

"Well, how is Zim expected to understand to this filth?! It's pathetic and so primitive I can't fathom it—"

"That's not why you can't understand it, stupid. It's because you're…stupid!" Dib barks, feeling kind of stupid himself, but pleased with having called his mortal enemy a name.

Maybe things would be different if Zim didn't get as easily upset as Dib did. If he'd been calmer and uncaring. But, he was hot headed and something as simple as an insult was enough to catapult him into a rage. Add the frustration of this…math-dookie and Zim was just ready to blow like a cheap fire-cracker. 

"Zim is not stupid! I'm advanced." It was something he'd heard his Tallest say once. It seemed like an adequate time to use it.

Between the lunch thing and just…sitting next to Zim, Dib had about exhausted his patience quota for the day. Not that it was very big to begin with. "Oh, just stuff it! You suck at math, Zim."

"Do not, Smelly-Head!"

"Yeah you do, Leprechaun."

Zim had no idea what a Leprechaun was. But, he hated it. And Dib even more for calling him it. The Irken's fuse, which on a good day was short, lit and exploded with him throwing his textbook across the room in a blind rage.

It made a satisfying bang against some kid's head. He had no time to laugh because next up was Dib's book, pages shredding under his fingers. Stupid numbers and symbols that made no sense. Horrible letters so out of place. Algorithms and shapes and—

His wrists were suddenly constrained very tightly, the book dropping from his grip. Zim growled against the new hold and he knew who it was because who else would it be but, the stupid human? No one else had the gall, no one else had ever in the history of ever touched him just to stop him from destroying things. No one. Not even the Tallest or his fellow soldiers. No. They used politics and banishments. But, Dib wasn't Irken. He was human, and violently so. 

It wasn't as if this was the first time things had gotten physical between them in nearly seven years. They fought all the time. Wrestled and grappled. Sometimes when insults weren't enough they would resort to hair pulling and biting and punching. 

At this current moment, Zim growled low in his throat and tried to yank his arms away. Dib held firm and his face looked like he tasted sour milk. Zim could look up into those brown eyes and see hatred, raw determination and annoyance. 

But, he didn't. Zim instead barked an Irken curse word and kept yanking on his arms though he knew it to be futile. It never occurred to him to maybe step on the human's foot or kick him in the stomach or uh, other area. Nope. 

"Zim." Dib said after nearly five minutes of this. Their classmates were used to their antics and had turned away about 3 minutes ago. "Zim. Stop it. You're being—"

"Grr. Let go of me!"

"No. Cause then you'll start clawing at me. I know you, Zim." 

"Let," Tug, pull. "go of," lots of groaning and futile yanking that hardly swayed Dib. "me!" 

"This could go on for hours Zim. You do remember the mutant gophers right?" An image sparked in Zim's tiny brain. It had been one of those times where they'd been forced to work together (and that happened more often than either of them cared to admit). 

An experiment gone wrong. Mutant Gophers that had been designed to be his faithful minions. To take over the world as his faithful minions. At the beginning there'd only been three. And then they had gotten smarter and started spreading the chemical to other gophers until there'd been hundreds. 

Some had burrowed into Dib's basement and chewed on his dad's stuff. He'd gone to Zim curious and suspicious and Zim had gone to Dib because they'd taken over his base and he had no real choice. Or at least that's what he stood by.

They'd argued about how to best handle the situation and it had escalated as it always did. They'd stood for another hour with Dib's arms wrapped around the alien to prevent more clawing. Dib's temper had slowly faded. 

Zim's had not. 

Oh. The human had a point. Sort of. It had taken them much longer to destroy the gophers than it would have if they hadn't fought. Plus, being so close to Dib's smell had given him a head ache. Swallowing back pride and saliva, Zim finally went limp and glared. "Zim will not claw your ugly eyes out." 

Dib raised an eyebrow and slowly released the irken. Who immediately punched the boy on his shoulder as hard as possible before slumping down in his seat with a huff. Dib yelled and his own fists clenched as he fought the urge not to hit back. The urge that told him that just because they were older now and he should restrain himself…that Zim deserved to be hit flat in his face.

The bell rung, sending the whole class in a flood out the door. They were the last ones out after the teacher yelled at them and forced Dib to pay for his ruined textbook despite it being all of Zim's fault. They marched out together, glaring all the while. 

\--  
 _3:35 PM._

_Skool is over. Finally. And I am waiting by my locker as the after-flood ensues. Not for any one in particular but, just watching. I like to watch people. They're cruel and kind of crazy but, it's something you kind of grow fond of doing, especially when you're a reject and have nothing else to do._

_There's Clash and the Letter M who are pretty much the class clowns. They're messing around, throwing paper balls and making a whole little group laugh at their antics. Torque Smacky is lifting his dumbbell casually and talking to Sarah who is giggling nearly hysterically. They're like prom king and queen. The perfect couple. The jocks all gather around and throw balls of every variety, warming up for practice today. And the semi-popular ones like Zita and Melvin. And then everyone in between._

_There's my old friends who I still sit with sometimes; Keef and Eeeeep, the others. But, even they are standing about as far away as they can get from Zim and Dib whose lockers are only six away from each other._

_Dib's very angry. I know because he's flushed and his ears are red. Plus, his movements are stiff as he yanks out the books he'll need for the night. Zim does the same and they slam their lockers shut at the same time, turn towards the giant crowd and begin walking with separate bags thrown over their shoulders._

_But, their expressions are the same; eyes straight ahead, looking through the people, mouth set. Zim is so much smaller than Dib, reaching his chest and yet they walk like they're the same person; eating up the distance between themselves and some invisible goal, mechanical like a soldier._

_People get out of their way. It's kind of instinctive. No one has to even think about avoiding them anymore, step away, out of the line of fire. It's natural. Just like how no one talks to them anymore or even blinks at their fights._

_They walk out of the Skool together. Like one big freak. Even freakier than me. But, about as normal as they can get._


	7. Another Counselor part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The teen cringed at the word ‘relationship’ though he knew logically ‘relationship’ didn’t have to mean romantically or even friendly. Everyone had a relationship with everyone they came into contact with every single day, whether it be casual acquaintances or your waitress.
> 
> But, still, the idea of a relationship with Zim was one that made him faintly nauseous. 
> 
> \--
> 
> Part 2/2

Dib scowled down at the bright yellow pass that directed him towards his destination. She’d pulled him out of calculus. What now? Hadn’t he made himself clear in the last ‘session’? Approaching the Guidance Counselor’s door, Dib put on his best apathetic teen expression before knocking. Two seconds went by in which he seriously considered running, before a muffled ‘Come in’ reached his ears. 

The room seemed darker this time, dirtier. It wasn’t surprising. Eventually that happened to everything in this town. It all turned dank and corrupt. Flopping in the not-so-comfy chair, he looked face to face with Ms.Pike whom had her hands clamped in front of her. 

Dib did a quick once over and noticed the shadows under her eyes, the frizzy state of her hair, the small dark stain on her shirt collar. He predicted it would be a week until the pressure had her snapping and walking out these skool doors never to return. That’s what happened with new teachers, the ones who wanted to make a difference, who came from out of town. They all quit. Unless you were Ms.Bitters. Though some people wished she would quit. Dib figured she had some sort of blood pact with the principle or the devil. Or the school had just been built around her and she refused to leave.

They sat in silence for a few seconds before she sighed, “How are you, Dib?”

“Fine.” He replied. It was true. He was always fine. “You look haggard.”

“Thanks.” Pike replied, dryly and then fell silent for a few more seconds. The clock hands ticked loudly. “Will you do me favor?” Dib raised an eyebrow in response. 

“Depends what it is, I guess.”

“Tell me about the beginning.”

“Beginning?”

“When you first met Zip.”

“Zim.” Dib corrected automatically before wincing like this had happened too many times before. Which is had. Was it really that hard to get his name right? 

“Zim. When did you meet?” Dib chewed on the question for a few seconds. What advantages could this give his opponent? None that he could imagine. Not that Miss. Pike was his opponent. He needed to stop thinking of everything as a challenge.

“It’s been…” He did some quick math, thinking back to when he’d been bored, giving up hope on that transmission he’d listened on to nearly six months before was real, it had to be a fake and the door had squeaked open to reveal Him. A kid with green skin, fake violet eyes like a dolls. Too perfect. No nose. No ears. Hope had soared. This was it. Dib’s mind was already moving a million miles a minute and Ms.Bitters hadn’t even introduced him yet. Maybe they could talk, share information. Dib thought they could be friends. How cool would that be? An alien friend.

Then Zim opened his mouth…it wasn’t even what the boy said but how he said it. His body language. Dib knew instinctively that this was not friend, this was foe. A million more thoughts broke the tension and all he could do anymore was stare and point, hoping someone else would notice it too.   
How long had it been? 

No. It couldn’t already be…

“Seven years. Eight in April. It was fifth grade. I actually skipped fourth, not that that matters…” Pike raised an eyebrow. “We’d already been in session a month when he walked into Ms.Bitters’ class. And I knew. I just knew.” Instinctively, Dib raised his chin. This was the truth. No one could convince him otherwise.

“You just knew he was an alien.”

“Yes.”

“Well, how have things progressed since then?”

“What do you mean?” Dib squinted at her. Pike sat up straight. 

“Do you still fight the way you used to?” She said, referring to the files and the numerous detentions and suspensions they’d gotten due to their tendency to break things and traumatize substitutes. “How has being in Highschool changed that relationship?” The teen cringed at the word ‘relationship’ though he knew logically ‘relationship’ didn’t have to mean romantically or even friendly. Everyone had a relationship with everyone they came into contact with every single day, whether it be casual acquaintances or your waitress.

But, still, the idea of a relationship with Zim was one that made him faintly nauseous. 

“Um. We only physically fight on the weekends. That’s when I stop all his evil plans and…usually it results in some epic battle for earth.” Wow that sounded lame but, Dib couldn’t help but think back to last weekend where deadly lasers had burned his jacket and part of his left eyebrow. Zim’s laughter echoed in his skull, rattling around, skipping like a scratched CD.

“—the week?” Pike’s voice interrupted his musings. 

“Huh?”

“And during the week? What do you two do then?” Dib stuffed his hands into his pockets, playing with the trash he’d forgotten to throw away; hate notes and candy wrappers and—the laser gun he’d stolen from the Irken. He smirked, thinking about how they always sat on opposite sides of the classroom (it was crazy how it always happened in almost every class they shared ((four too many)) exchanging suspicious glares, said hate notes, who could be the most annoying and get the other to interrupt class and get in trouble contests…

Wow, when he thought about it, it sounded childish and stupid, though when he was aiming spit balls at Zim’s head it felt like the fate of the world depended on making him extra mad.

“Um…fate of the world stuff.”

Not for the first time, and there had been a few occasions these last couple years where seeds of doubt had been planted in his brain, growing ever so slowly until he could feel thorns scratching at his skull, pushing against his eyes. Dib was beginning to realize just how…pathetic and futile his war with Zim had become.   
But, then the idea of the Irkens swarming overhead, giant laser beams destroying everything and everyone he’d ever known and knowing that the thing that was able to decide if that would happen was living right down the street…well, that nightmare had him reforming his vow to stop Zim. That and life was kind of freaking boring as hell when he wasn’t fighting the alien.

He told Ms.Pike about the note throwing, the wrestling in gym class, sabotaging the other’s sleeping habits, and how they tried to get the other one detention and more often than not ended up sharing it all the while feeling his ego take a serious blow.

“But, it’s not like we can have epic battles at school. People would get hurt…and we both need to Yanno…graduate.” Dib fidgeted. Ms.Pike smiled, tiredly.

“It sounds like you have a bit of a routine.”

Dib sighed, thinking about that and figuring that it was true in a way. He tounge danced along his teeth. “Okay, yes. Fine. It’s a routine. What’s your point?” And there was one. He just couldn’t exactly figure out what it was. But, the ramifications were there, lurking in the back of his mind. Pike shook her head. 

“Nothing.” The contents of her desk rattled as she dug through a couple drawers and pulled out a large blank piece of paper and a black pen, drawing two circles that connected in the middle, with ‘Zim’ and ‘Dib’ drawn in her girly handwriting above their own circle. A Venn-diagram, he recognized from his English class. What was she playing at now? The counselor pushed the page towards him along with the marker.

“I want you to compare and contrast Zim and yourself. Your character traits, personalities, ideas and anything else you can think of. Be as honest as possible.” Dib looked at the paper contemptuously, then back up at Pike. This was stupid. Really stupid. He could be in class right now. Reluctantly, he grabbed the pen and began writing. Slowly and then quicker. At first, the middle remained blank while the other circles grew darker and crowded. 

Then he remembered tiny things; like how they both hated gym, their mutual love for space and science, they were both kind of paranoid (Zim more than himself) and he knew they were both determined, though their goals were very different. The seconds ticked by uncomfortably, and eventually he let the pen fall to the desk because there was too much here. Too much in the center, too much that connected them and not nearly enough to set them apart.

Both circles had dark spider legs of words, springing from them but, it wasn’t enough for Dib. He was thrown from his panicked musings as the final shrill screaming bell of the day rang. “You can leave.” Pike responded, rubbing her temples.”Have a good day, Dib.” The boy was already half way out the door, fist clutching his backpack and Venn diagram.

“You too!” He called, escaping. He was a late in his routine which actually made him a bit anxious. Usually, they walked out from class together, arguing and being generally obnoxious, went to their respective lockers, and depending on the day either walked until they went their separate ways or fought out on the blacktop. Dib swerved through the swarm of frenzied children and managed to catch a glimpse of green skin rushing out the exit. He muttered a low curse and hurriedly opened his locker, shoving all his textbooks into his backpack and slamming it shut before rushing after the alien. 

Dib went to shove open the exit doors, only to realize that his left hand still clutched the wrinkled Venn-diagram. His stomach dropped and the urge to drop it to the titled floor was strong. He wanted to throw it away and let it be swept up by the janitor with the other fliers and forgotten class work. But, what if someone found it? Found out just how similar they were. Found the evidence of them, of Zim and he being even a little bit the same?

No. He shoved it into his jacket pocket, determined to forget about it, before throwing the doors open to the blinding afternoon sunlight and nearly tripping down the stairs in his rush to catch the alien.


	8. One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _If one is an incident, two is a coincidence and three is a pattern...what is four?_

_If one is an incident…_  
\--

The entire building was collapsing. It wouldn’t have been that big of a deal normally, because these things were old. The ones that had been evacuated and still stunk faintly with ashes and whatever chemicals were in that explosion. Sometimes they still glowed green. 

This was the abandoned part of town that had been affected by the time stasis explosion that Zim had caused a few years prior. So, yes, if something began to crumble it usually wasn’t surprising or a big deal, considering no one even lived in this area of town anymore.

Only right now it was because they were on top of it. What had they been thinking? Well, most likely they hadn’t. It just graduated from Dib stopping some stupid evil plan involving angry ,giant, rabid rats and into a full out brawl that took them up the stairs, dust falling, yelling echoing up and down empty corridors. 

The roof door exploded open and he rolled outside, jumping back up into the fighting position just as Zim clambered after him, on his spider legs, poking holes into the weak foundation, which should’ve been a pretty good clue that this was a bad idea. They were at least ten stories up. It was an old factory. Who knew what for. It was rusty and made for tons of creepy ambiance which Zim appreciated since he was all about the theatrics. 

“Afraid, worm baby?” The Irken called, cackling manically before breaking into a coughing fit because of all the dust. Dib was unimpressed, searching the perimeter for a possible escape and coming up with nothing short of either jumping off the building (not happening) or distracting Zim into getting out of the way of the door back down the stairs. 

“Afraid of what, lizard? Contracting your stupid? Because yes, I am.” It was dark outside now. The surrounding buildings held no light, there were no street lamps left. The moon and the stars were blocked out by the smog, so he could see the Irken’s glowing eyes. The wind blew, whistling through empty windows, causing harsh whistles to break out all around them.

Dib pulled back his fist, which clutched an old pipe taken from far below near the beginning of this adventure, prepared to break an alien jaw should he make any sudden movements, when there was a loud and wet crunch and the floor fell out from underneath him. His stomach was in his throat and confusion only lasted for a millisecond before the thought _‘I’m going to die’_ overwhelmed him. 

\--

_Some time earlier…_

What was Zim doing in this part of town? Dib thought to himself, skidding down a little hill of broken building. The idiot was around here somewhere, doing who knew what. He’d been acting more stupid than usual today at skool, distracted and laughing to himself occasionally. He was planning something. Dib had followed him home, only the alien didn’t go home. He went straight here, ducking inside several buildings, probably aware of the human trailing him. 

This place gave him the creeps. It was abandoned and scattered with the occasional rat or hobo, buildings crumbling, filled with old momentos. But, that wasn’t what bothered Dib. It was the fact that irken technology did this and that this was a pretty fair idea of what the earth could look like if the armada conquered them. What would happen if he didn’t fight Zim’s stupid attempts at world domination.

A loud crashing sound had the human instinctively crouching into a fighting position, searching for what caused the sound. In one hand he held his trusty camera (the 146th one to hold the title) and in the other he had the map of this dump but, it wasn’t much help. The noise happened again and it sounded closer. He ran towards it, toward a large building that still seemed mostly intact.

It had a door surprisingly enough and Dib pushed it open slightly to peek inside. Zim was there, fighting…giant rats? Dib pushed the door open and ran inside, hugging the wall and watching the action. He lifted his camera and took three rapid shots. The rats were huge. Half Zim’s size with giant teeth and they were fast too. There were at least a hundred of them, he estimated. The alien was pretty good at taking care of them though, stabbing them with his pak legs, and shaking them off so it didn’t turn into a rat-cabob. Dib grimaced at that idea. 

He began to slide back out the door, except one of them noticed the human and began to go after him, jumping to attack. Dib yelled and rolled out of the way, standing quickly, and hopping up on top of a rusty platform, looking for a weapon. He dropped the camera to be picked up again later.

Zim spun to see the human’s evasion, growling. “Dib!” 

“Zim.” The boy replied simply, kicking a pipe once, twice until it broke and he could wield it to hit at the beady eyed creature that lunged for him.   
“What are you doing here?!” The Irken yelled, batting one of the offenders away and stabbing it before throwing it in Dib’s direction. 

“Seeing what stupid thing you were up to. This….what even is this?” The metal of Dib’s makeshift weapon made contact with the meaty body of a rat, cracking its ribs and snapping its spine under the force. 

“An evil plan that uh…has some bugs.” Zim replied, with a superior sniff, distracted long enough to have at least three attack him. He screeched and tried desperately to bat them away. Dib scowled and managed to hit one of them off of the alien, before he had to turn back around and fend off the ones coming for him. 

“Understatement. What were you even trying to do?!”   
“That’s none of your—urgh! business, Dib-stink.” 

“You made it my business, idiot.” Dib called back, kicking back one of them so he could take on another. The bodies fell swiftly with the two of them working together.   
Dib panted after all the rats were gone. The two enemies stood at the ready for a few seconds, before realizing it was over. They fell out of their fighting positions. 

Dib went to grab his stuff and get the hell out of here, take a shower, eat and try not to have nightmares about being eaten by giant rats. He searched for his camera only to find it missing. “What?” Now, he frantically looked about, realizing that one of the rats must’ve grabbed it and either hidden it or ate it. With a long suffering sigh, he looked around at the piles of rat corpses and realized it was hopeless. Camera number 146 was gone. 

Zim shuddered. Note to self: Rats did not make good minions. Especially gigantic, mutated to be livid ones. He turned to the human, realizing now they were alone and this would be a good time to attack the unsuspecting pig wouldn’t it? Zim grinned and began to do just that, realizing Dib was preoccupied with something stupid. That wouldn’t do, would it?

The boy heard the sharp sound of metal against metal as it got closer. The spider legs against the rusted floor and turned just in time to see one of the legs slam down right near his foot. He yelped and lifted the pipe as a threat, quickly retreating. A familiar rush of adrenaline spiked again in his blood, as he back peddled, realizing Zim blocked the nearest exit. There was a door to stairs in the corner of the room.

The fight began.   
\--

Zim was staring at the place where the human had been two seconds ago, blinking stupidly. Then he glanced down at the hole, where a familiar yell reached his antenna. _‘This is ten floors. We fought our way up that stair case. That monkey is not going to survive a drop that big. Dib is going to die.’_

A few years ago, that would probably have been funny. It would’ve relieved him because that pest was gone and yes, a part of him got a kick out of imagining the boy’s sheer terror as he fell, but then the image of him broken at the bottom, soundless among the rats and no longer Dib…

Zim dove after him, despite the fact that holy jumping jelly bean this was reaaaaally high up, but he could see the boy’s stupid hair and his spider legs closed around his body, while two more hooked into a wall, trying to slow them down. Together they screamed. They were only two stories up when the metal joints failed and snapped completely, sending them crashing to the metal floor in a heap of bodies, alien, human and rat. 

A few pieces of cement fell, putting a final punctuation on the whole occasion. Zim retracted his spider legs and Dib groaned, checking himself for injuries, moving slowly to check for any pain. Everything felt okay. Nothing felt broken. The alien whimpered a bit and Dib’s neck suddenly hurt from how fast his head turned.

Zim had saved him. Had jumped after him. That was…weird. Too weird. Not weird in the ‘oh that’s so cool I need to check it out and investigate it’ but, weird in the hand shaking, hard to breathe, inconceivable way.

“Did you…you just…”  
“Be silent, Dib-Worm. I did nothing. This never—“ Zim wheezed, trying to force air back into his spooch. “happened.”

The human raised an eyebrow but, nodded. Yes, he could handle that. Kind of. This didn’t happen. But, the sudden rush of gratitude was something he was unsure of how to control. Did this make him in the alien’s debt? 

He brushed white powder of his coat, avoiding looking at Zim, but for a glance in the corner of his eye. The Irken seemed okay, finally getting to his feet and avoiding looking at Dib. 

The human slipped out the door and limped home, thinking. His evil nemesis had saved him. Provided this wasn’t the first time something like this had happened, there was usually something that the other person needed, in exchange for the other’s life, like that whole Halloween fiasco. 

Dib’s lungs ached for two days afterwards from the force of the fall and he was sore but, alive. All thanks to...Zim.


	9. Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _If one is an incident, two is a coincidence and three is a pattern...what is four?_

_...Two is a coincidence..._  
\--

Zim swore that he would never come back to the wretched city again, and as he tried to stop the nausea from overwhelming him, he cursed the stupid little robot that wasn’t responding to any calls but, whose signal pointed somewhere to the heart of this dump. Not an actual dump, although there was one not too far from where he was standing, trying to look like he wasn’t going to throw up.

It was the stench. Not the buildings that reached like cement fingers into the red sky, or the scarred, doomed people who practically marched from place to place with heavy ominous briefcases in hand, or even the darkening alleyways that cut through the stretches of buildings, shades from sun or lights, filled with the lingering scent of decay.

Zim grit his teeth, a bad habit, that he’d rid himself of long before coming to earth, and turned a corner as the gps commanded. He nearly collided with a tall bearded man who yelled at him to watch where he was going, only causing Zim to whimper like a smeet and scurry forward at a quicker pace, determined to find the blinking blue dot that was GIR.  
“When I find him, I’ll kill him.” The irken growled.

The robot had been missing for approximately five days, three of those days Zim had spent getting up the nerve to look for him. The dot on the GPS was getting closer. Zim frowned, scratching an antenna beneath the itchy wig, confused. Far off in the distance, something loud rumbled, angrily. He paid it no mind. This city was filled with horrid noises.  
He shuffled down an alleyway, nearly turning right back around again and running all the way home. The smell. The urge to vomit arose and he squashed it, moving forward as he’d always done. The dot was down here. Gir was irritatingly close. 

“Gir?” He asked in a much too quiet voice. He tried again, louder this time. “Gir?” No response came from the dank alleyway. Not a squeak, a meow or one of those obnoxious screeches. The dot was huge on the screen and Zim stopped when it nearly took up the whole thing. Gir was right....there. In the dumpster? Brow furrowed, Zim kicked the metal container, angry at how steady it was. Angry because he was going to have to get inside of it. Another loud rumbling sound. 

“You better be seriously damaged for all the trouble you put me through.” Zim scolded, climbing up onto a nearby box, and with a shudder of revulsion, peered inside the dumpster. Luckily it was mostly empty, containing a couple cardboard boxes, some cans and of course the little robot. Zim instantly regretted his ill wishes upon the machine and instead came up with a way to fish the android out, using a pak leg. 

A quick investigation revealed a huge dent in Gir’s head. Most of the wires inside were intact. All of his pieces were there. It must’ve shocked him into sleep mode. “Stupid robot. Out partying all night. Worrying me.” Zim scolded to thin air, tucking Gir under his arm and hopping off the box as another rumble of noise echoed through the city, sending a jolt down his spine. Wait, he knew that noise. As the thought occurred, accompanied by a flash of terror, the first drops began to fall. 

Zim stared up at the darkening sky. One drop. Two hit the ground around him. The third landed between his eyes and sent him skittering away from the alleyway. He had to get home. All at once the sky opened up and the ocean poured into the craphole of a city. With a muffled screech, Zim ducked under a bus stop. People were opening up umbrellas, or lifting their hoods against the downpour. For once, Zim envied a human for their ease in handling the acidic liquid that fell from the sky. They could walk around without fear of being dissolved where they stood.

He wondered if he should just stay here until the rain subsided. A loud crack of thunder, followed by lightening countered his argument. Fear ran in his veins. The rain only seemed to increase in density and in volume, pounding the pavement. Zim lifted his own hood. If he ran all the way home, he could make it. Anything to escape the noise that was almost worse than the acid. The colors bled together, humans and buildings. He ran into several, immediately turning around and running back the other direction. The terror made him irrational. Gir bounced under his arm, the rain making him slippery.

Once Zim actually dropped him. A panicked yell escaped the Irken and he dropped to his knees, searching for the robot, splashing in puddles before finding the metal body and yanking to his chest. 

His main concern was melting. The paste he put on every morning could hold out a lot longer, thanks to advances made by his genius intellect. But, it wouldn’t last forever. The slight sting in his pores made him aware of that fact. The breath hitched in the back of his throat, as he huddled under a restaurant's hanging awning. It provided decent shelter, but larger drops fell as the water soaked through the fabric. 

Unbidden, a whimper escaped Zim’s throat. Through the deluge, he could see the yellow tell tale sign of a bus stop. By his calculations he should be halfway out of the city by now. But, that bus stop looked awfully familiar. So, did the hobo down on the far corner and the cardboard box next to the stop light. 

Had he gone in circles? The idea had him reeling, running out from the cover of the awning with a yell. He had to get home. The spray blinded him, so he kept his head down, depending on his feet and instincts to keep him from running into things. 

But, he ran into someone anyway. Zim hit the body, bouncing off and hitting the cement, gir bouncing away and rolling into the gutter. The person grunted and grumbled. “Hey watch where you’re g--Zim?” The Irken yanked his robot from the tiny river and finally looked up. That voice of course. Why not add the Dib into the misery? 

The human had an umbrella, a stupid, stupid one that matched his stupid face, red from the cold, eyes squinting at him from behind fogged glasses. Zim could almost feel the heat. “What the hell are you doing here?” The teen asked with trepidation. Zim finally stood up, upset when he still only reached the Dib’s chest. 

“Nothing.”

“Oh really?” Dib remarked, eyebrow raised. 

“What are YOU doing here, eh?” Zim asked, fidgeting with Gir and casually shuffling underneath the human’s rain shield. Dib sniffed, clearly feeling superior. 

“I’m just getting back from my karate classes...” The paranormal investigator finally noticed the darkened robot. “Hey. What happened to the thing?”

“The thing...oh. He’s damaged. That’s why I’m...” Zim trailed off, never finishing his sentence. Dib waited but, eventually got tired. 

“I thought you were allergic to water?” Zim said nothing, only shivering under the umbrella, glad for the temporary shelter along with a familiar face even if that face made him want to punch everything to ever exist. Dib sighed, looking around at the steady downpour. “How long have you been out here?”

Zim shrugged. “A few hours, give or take.” Dib frowned in response. He knew that Zim’s paste only lasted so long.

“So, what are you doing? Running around town, trying to shrivel into a raisin?”

“No! I’m trying to get home.”

Dib winced at the word ‘home’. Not ‘base’ or ‘house’. Home. Zim had been saying that a lot lately. He look down at the drenched moron with his robot, clenched to him like a lifeline. He looked like a lost kid. A very ugly, very green kid. Actually, he was more like a lost, wet cat. 

Dib sighed, realizing at that moment that he had two options. he could walk away, leave Zim to his own devices and that could result in a. Zim looking pathetic and injured on monday or b. his death. The first one appealed greatly. The second one, left him a bit...uneasy which was stupid. 

The second option, involved Dib sharing his umbrella and getting the idiot home which would result in Zim alive. And a way to pay off for the time that the idiot saved him from falling through that roof..

Dib sighed again, irritated but decided. There was no way he was going to stay in Zim’s debt for longer than possible. “Come on, idiot.” He replied, finally, continuing to walk forward through the deluge. Only this time he had a very annoying companion.


	10. Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _If one is an incident, two is a coincidence and three is a pattern...what is four?_

_...and three is a pattern..._  
\--  
They were surrounded, which wasn’t altogether surprising. But, it was something he’d been hoping to avoid. Dib pulled out the gun that had been tucked away in the waist band of his jeans. He’d been so sure he wouldn’t have to use it. Stupid. 

Zim growled next to him, claws out, robot arms protruding from his pak. The zombies, creatures that they had raised (on accident of course), stumbled ever closer, looking pretty damn hungry. One of the faster ones lunged forward, arms outstretched, jaws gnashing and Dib shot it in the center of its forehead, sending the corpse falling backwards, twitching violently. Dib cursed something he hardly ever did. But, this was a special, direr than average occasion. It deserved a few f-bombs. 

Zim stabbed one of the creatures through its shoulder, where it flailed around, trying to tear itself free. Dib scowled. “No, idiot. You have to get their brains. It controls the whole body. It’s the only way to kill them.” The alien ripped the leg from the rotten flesh only to stab the same leg through the zombie’s head before it could even recover, making a sickening crushing sound. 

“Better?” Zim asked, trying to sound casual. Dib knew that this was pretty much the Irken’s worst nightmare come to life. Ever since that Halloween about 5 years ago, Zim had been terrified of zombies to the point where Dib had gone out of his way to dress up as one ever single year afterwards. 

Instead of getting a sick sort of glee out of Zim’s fear as usual, Dib felt a bit nauseated. He wasn’t scared of these things. The paranormal had never made him uneasy like it did many others. Didn’t give him goosebumps or sent shivers down his spine. It made him feel responsible. These zombies were his to destroy, so that no one else got hurt. And looking at the poorly hidden terror on Zim’s face, Dib felt responsible for making it disappear. And that was just wrong.

He shot another one that came too close. There were still 12 of them, limping into an ever tighter circle to surround them. “You take six. I’ll get the other ones.” Dib bit out to the irken who slowly nodded. As if it was a cue, the rest of the zombies moved quicker, moaning and screaming if their vocal chords allowed it.

Dib hurriedly shot two in the head, grimacing at the spray of toxic blood and bone. He would need a hard core shower later. From behind him, he could sense Zim frantically stabbing out with his pak legs, shooting with the other two and missing eight times out of ten. “Are you even hitting any of them!?”

“Yes. I’ve gotten two and uhh, a half.” Zim’s voice shook.

“A half?” Dib turned and wished he hadn’t. A half. Literally. The alien had shot off half of the monster’s body, leaving it with half a face, one arm, one leg and it was still crawling with the majority of its brain intact. “God damn it! Shoot them in the he—“

Slimy arms wrapped around his shoulders, his arms, his legs. Anywhere they could get a grip. Stupid, stupid, idiot, moron. He’d freaking turned around to stare at Zim’s failed kill only to get snuck up upon. He fought to cock his weapon, ready to shoot and keep shooting but, with all the arms around him it was hard to move very well. 

He aimed at a sickly brown arm, rotting in several places, shot it clean off and that was one out of six and who knew if he wouldn’t get bitten by then. Sharp metal whizzed past his face and he was free. Dib stumbled forwards, shaking off the twitching limbs. He looked up at Zim to see him retracting the spider legs, a look of rage and nausea written on his face. Huh. 

Dib knew that the ones behind him would keep coming, armless as they were so he spun and in quick succession shot all remaining 4 zombies in the head. The blood oozed everywhere, staining the grass with toxic brown sludge. From behind him, harsh moans and cries were coupled with Zim’s panicked screeches. 

Dib re-cocked his gun and spun to help Zim in case he nee—Son of a bitch, he yelled both out loud and in his head. The alien had gone down with the twitching bodies, fighting but, feebly. The idiot was probably terrified but, also weak. He’d learned that Zim was very uncomfortable with human anatomy. During health class he’d grown faint several times just when learning about blood cells, hearts, and had fainted when he’d been trying to dissect a liver. 

The remaining zombies were hunched over Zim, lifting his body towards them, ready to feast. A bubble of something rose in his stomach, expanding in his chest and exploding out from his throat. It sounded like a yell but, felt like anger and fear. He shot the first one in the head, brain going everywhere, all over Zim who whimpered eyes too wide. 

The gun re-cocked too slowly for his taste and the zombie’s mouth was way too close to Zim’s throat, so Dib kicked it in the face, sending its head backwards. It slowly looked up at him and groaned furiously. Dib raised the barrel to the creatures’ forehead and shot it. An explosion of covered both of them.

He was panting, like he’d run a mile. Dib looked around for any others they might have missed and saw nothing. He clicked the safety on and slid it back into the waist band of his jean, looking down at Zim who was standing shakily, pak legs limp. He was covered in blood. They both were. Dib didn’t know what to say; nothing witty or sly came to mind. Just,

“Okay?” Zim’s magenta eyes strayed from where they’d been staring at the limp, slightly twitching zombies up to Dib. 

“I hate this planet.”

“Well, it doesn’t like you either. Maybe you should leave.”

Zim scowled, retracting his pak legs. “Maybe you should shut up.”

“Make me.” 

“I would but, I don’t think my hands or any form of tape would be able to fit over that big mouth of yours.”

They bickered as they burned the bodies. They argued as they walked home. And when they finally went their separate ways it was with insults shouted down the road, in the back of Dib’s mind he thought about how they’d saved each other yet again. In Zim’s mind it was all part of the war, he’d convinced himself of that. 

They went home and they cleaned themselves of evidence of the day’s occurrence.


	11. Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If one is an incident, two is a coincidence and three is a pattern...what is four?

_Again..._  
His enemy was located, according to the document he’d stolen, on the sixth floor. Dedicated to the dangerous patients.  Accurate. While most of the time, Dib was a nuisance, he was also the most dangerous human on this planet. The only enemy worth fighting. The guards proved to be no challenge. Not for a member of the Irken elite, anyhow. 

He shot at a camera that followed him along the wall. It exploded into little pieces, wires short circuiting. A quick glance at the chart. Almost there. Zim winded his way down what appeared to be the same, white hallways. It felt eerie. Where was everyone? Wasn’t this a hospital of sorts? Where were the people? Just as he feared he was lost, the door came into sight. 

He shot the entrance off, slipping inside and noticing an immediate difference from the rest of the building. It was darker here. Much darker. Only the emergency lights shone dimly against the white walls. It was grungier.   
Zim nearly turned right back around and ran back up six floors. He shook himself of the irrational fears. Dib was close. Just ten doors to the right. They all looked the same, with no numbers to keep track so he counted them out loud. His own voice startled him. From behind each of the metal doors, he could hear the patients. 

They must’ve heard the ruckus he’d caused. He stood in front of the 10th door and charged up his pak legs to shoot the hinges off, since he did not know the code to open it. Bright pink lasers cut into the metal and it fell inward. Inside, the room was pitch black, the light from the hallway somehow not managing to penetrate the gloom. But, his superior irken eyesight finally managed to grow used to it. In the corner, Dib leaned against the wall, a small grim smile spread across his face. The human had no glasses and his normal clothes were replaced with white pajamas. Dib pushed away from the padded wall.

Bright red lights began to flash, a loud alarm screeched while a deep voice boomed over and over. “security breech.” Zim covered his antenna against the horrible sound. The human was right next to him in a flash, hands clenched into fists.  
“Let’s get out of here shall we?”  
\--  
_And again..._  
Dib had no idea what he was doing, something that was becoming more and more common as of late. Besides messing around with Tak’s ship, his knowledge with irken aircrafts was minimal. That was something he would have to remedy. Right after he safely piloted and landed Zim’s voot cruiser somewhere in a nice grassy inlet. His fingers flew over the control panel, pressing buttons that looked like they could be helpful as the ship spiraled to earth. 

Zim sat limply in his seat, face surprisingly peaceful in unconsciousness. Dib was going to kill him if this crash didn’t. Zim began to slide forward as they fell down, down, down and Dib threw an arm over the idiot’s chest so that he didn’t slam into the control panel.  The pressure from the falling altitude threatened to knock him backwards but, Dib was stubborn and he wasn’t going down until he was safe. Until, they were safe.  
\--  
_And again..._

Zim whimpered. The human had been under water for too long. Wasn’t it something like a minute? They could hold their breath until then and then they exploded? He huddled underneath the boy’s trench coat, his shield against the sprays of ocean water. “D-Dib…?” He asked the waves to return the boy. When two minutes passed, Zim peeked over the edge and saw nothing but, ominous darkness where Dib had dove in to catch fish. 

The whimper turned to a scream. “Dib!” The idea popped into his head that maybe the human was dead and briefly a celebratory sensation took over but, it was snuffed out by the thought of being here alone, of being on earth without the human. It seemed bleak and boring. 

Zim let the trench coat drop and put his boot on the edge of their lifeboat, looking into the dark water. This was insanity. This was…stupid and necessary. He held his breath and with only a twenty second hesitation, plunged into the water to find the Dib.  
\--

_Then what is four?_

_They saved each other. Again and again. From other aliens, from bullies and poison. From freak weather and crashing space ships. They would never admit to doing it and if they did it would always be met with an excuse. 'It's to repay a debt', 'he has something I need'or 'I want to be the one to end his miserable life'. Which was true in a way. But, neither noticed how the years flew by and the number of rescues piled up._

_It was just another tangle, another knot in a complicated relationship that just grew more and more so that it was hard to tell where Zim ended and where Dib began and vise versa._


	12. Resentment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The beginning realization of the futile mission.

Sometimes Dib saw his life in the cracks and textured bubbles on his ceiling. Late at night, when the crickets outside his window chirped and the house was quiet, the ceiling held a web of ideas and thoughts. It was hard to get sleep sometimes because his mind worked a thousand miles an hour even on the days where he came home exhausted. 

Even now a scene was unfolding in his mind, as he thought back to earlier that day; a Sunday afternoon, a dastardly plan that turned out to be pathetic but none the less led to a strife, followed by an extended chase. Or it would’ve. Except Zim spent a good ten minutes trying to get a stubborn piece of tape off his hand that he’d gotten stuck to him while crawling around, he guessed. 

It reminded Dib of a cat, by how frustrated the Irken got. They were working together for the first time in months, the last time had been against radiated giant spiders. This time is was all about yet another alien who was out for revenge against Zim and was by extension tearing apart the planet searching for the irken. Dib had considered just turning his enemy in but, the one searching was kind of a huge jerk. And he hated indulging jerks. 

They had just barely escaped when the alien (named Hax or something like that) had broken into Zim’s base. They tore out from the back door and ran all over town, hiding in alleyways and crawling through bushes. Zim complained the whole time. And eventually they had even taken refuge in a department store, hiding in the clothes racks, losing their pursuer in the aisles of snacks. 

Now they were a mile away and out of breath. He sighed and leaned against the building they were hiding behind, hoping for a breeze to take away some of the heat and his current predicament hit him like a brick to the head. He was hiding from something sinister, with his worst enemy, the greatest threat to this planet and Dib felt like it was perfectly natural. The idea made him cringe. Zim finally got the tape off his hand by sticking it to Dib’s coat. 

Dib stared up at the ceiling, brows furrowing in silent thought. The rough plaster morphed into a face, into the face of one of his fellow students who had ran out of their fourth period class, crying. He had no idea why. Something about a boy and a hive of bees. 

It wasn’t why it happened that got to Dib it was the pure emotion on the girl’s face as she’d pushed him out of the way in her haste to get out of the door. There was pain, sorrow, anger and she showed it to the world in a most dramatic fashion. Everyone in the class murmured amongst themselves, curious and wondering why she’d been sobbing quite so hard.

Her face had been flushed and the tears were running down her face. It was faintly disturbing to Dib. He’d cried twice in his life. According to his father, once when he was brought into the world, he’d given out a loud, upset cry that lasted for a an hour or so, before he’d settled down, and merely observed . He was a very quiet child (at least when it came to crying) who had learned to communicate early on and had no need for tears when he could yell or gesture violently. The second time was in the middle of Ms. Bitter’s 5th grade class.

Dib quickly dismissed the memory, not wanting to think of how they’d all seen the unbelievable; a huge hulking monster had literally burst through the ceiling, snatched his enemy up and then rocketed back into the sky and they had STILL mocked him, still made fun of him and refused to see.

It was a dark moment. He’d begun to think that maybe it really was a lost cause.  
As a boy who had a father who knew only cold science and a little sister who knew only repressed rage, Dib had never had anyone to encourage softer emotions and while, he didn’t find them weak necessarily, they were very foreign and almost repulsive. In fact, Dib’s favorite tshirt was a fair representative of his most common emotion. And when it deviated it was to frustration, curiosity, satisfaction or rarely, fear. 

Perhaps that was why he’d felt like there was a wall between other kids his age and himself. That and his bigger than average intellect. They probably sensed it as well. And as a rule, humans were adverse to anything that was different. 

Dib rolled over so that he faced away from the ceiling. He needed to sleep. Not spend hours contemplating his life, in all its over complicatedness. The boy forced his eyes shut and tried to even his breathing out, to give himself over to unconsciousness. But, behind his eyelids images flashed red and black; Zim yelling by his side, a girl crying uncontrollably, and the faces of his peers as they laughed at him. He eventually fell asleep but, a seed of something dark and painful nestled in his heart. 

Something that had been forming for years. Something that only now he was fully aware of. Resentment towards his fellow humans. He’d been able to push it away, to drown it in action until now. Now no matter how hard he tried, no matter how much Dib fought for them, tried to make them believe, it was there. And as the months flew by he became aware of how much it had grown. Until it was a poisonous vine around his insides.


	13. Falling Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cut off from the source.

He tried to ignore how hard it was to get ahold of the Massive. It was too far away, out of range, he told himself. They were very busy, they were the Tallest after all, Zim reminded Gir, who blinked uncomprehendingly, before offering up a drool covered toy as consolation. 

He tried to ignore the sour taste in his mouth. The knot in his spooch. Zim pretended that he wasn’t completely cut off from his species. Stuck with a race of reckless, moronic bipedal primates that had barely invented wireless networks. 

Zim wasn’t afraid of being stuck on Earth forever. He had a space ship after all. He could leave this horrible planet anytime he wanted. Zim _was_ afraid of leaving earth without conquering it. This was his mission. Every irken had one. This one would earn him a spot in Invader history. A slot in mandatory history downloads. The mission that would prove that he, Zim, could do and be anything. If he left…he would be…nothing. He would be a failure. Invaders either conquered or died trying. Irkens succeeded or died trying. There was a reason no one knew how long they could live naturally. 

It was raining again. The sight left him feeling conflicted, instead of terror like it used to. Drop of acid hit the metal roof too loudly. If he stepped outside without protection the water would essentially melt him. And yet…there were no humans outside when it rained. They stayed inside. When it rained they hurried to their destination. It was nice. 

Zim’s hands clenched behind his back, his rubber gloves squeaked. It had been weeks since he’d last corresponded with the Tallest. Much too long. Maybe they were in trouble. He pictured an assassination attempt, another rebellion, war had broken out or maybe their lines were down and he was just being silly.

He glared at the drop as they attacked his window. Wanting him. Zim was dressed in his rainwear; water proof boots, a rubber coat, a rain visor and his skin coated in several layers of paste. Did he dare go outside? What if the Tallest called while he was out?  
But he couldn’t stay here. There were things to do. Zim had to get more supplies from the store. There were things to conquer. Plans to put into play. 

His eyes narrowed. A few more drops slid down the window and his leaders were absent. Zim grabbed the umbrella he’d stolen from a neighbor kid and opened the door into a spray of water.


	14. The Venn Diagram

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Dib went to shove open the exit doors, only to realize that his left hand still clutched the wrinkled Venn-diagram. _\- Another Counselor, Part 2__

_Parent vs. No Parents_

Dib had a parent. If that’s what he could be called. Membrane was away quite often except for the rare family togetherness day or for their biannual check ups. His father was tall and foreboding, as well as intelligent if ignorant. He never really listened and he loved to talk. Dib wouldn’t lie to himself; there was a bit of resentment residing within himself. 

All the cold dinners, all the promises broken, the monsters under his bed that he had to banish himself, and then the ones he had to banish for his sister (until she learned to scare them herself)…well, there was no replacing the bitterness. But, even so, Dib loved his father despite of all of that. His dad worked hard. The great Membrane was the master of an empire that spanned the world over, of course he was busy. And Dib knew that. He respected his dad. He had fond memories of ice cream shops and newly invented toys that all the other kids were jealous of. 

Membrane had made sure they were properly educated, he’d never left them without food or clothes or a warm house. They never wanted for anything. Dib never really noticed how he felt a little uncomfortable with ‘weaker’ emotions like tears or sorrow or loneliness. Those were things he’d forced himself to repress, things that his dear old father had always found to be silly. So, Dib was sure to hardly ever feel those things.

Membrane never lied about Santa. He made them or bought their presents without pretense and they were placed under the fake tree, sans wrapping paper. But, they were there. And whenever Gaz had gone through her dance class phase, he’d always managed to show up to the recitals, even if not in person. 

Even now, despite all their busy schedules, they managed to get together, once a year and just be…together. Dib never said he loved his dad. And his dad never said it either. But, it was fact. There was a reason that they, experiments (a secret well-kept), were still around. His file, dusty and hidden in the back of a filing cabinet in his father’s secondary laboratory basement, was marked with big red letters ‘failure’. He was too ambitious, hyperactive and paranoid, a clone gone wrong. And yet…he wasn’t terminated.

And Gaz, also a failure, with her emotional levels too high and low in all the wrong places, altered dna… they were both alive and treated like his children. Children of a man who had probably never intended on having kids. But, who had felt something, something that was weak and uncomfortable…something he’d been taught by his own father, not to feel…when he’d looked in at their developing embryos, watched the fetuses grow features…when he gave them names…

Dib knew that his father was embarrassed of him and worried about him. But, at the end of the day, he had a parent that loved him, even if he found it hard to show it. That’s what made him human. What made him different from his mortal enemy who had none to speak of.

\--

The robot arm, unfeeling and mechanic was the first thing he really remembered. It was a burst of neediness and something like the love humans were so obsessed with. It was probably the closest thing to a parent he had since all irkens were made from base dna that had been cloned and genetically engineered to be slightly different, taken from the last irkens that could sexually reproduce…hundreds of years ago. 

He’d never felt like he was missing anything. Irkens were independent even from smeethood. They were practically adults, with all of irken knowledge inserted into their paks/minds. Then from there they were sent underground to learn even more; how to fight and use their new minds to the empire’s advantage. They learned what they would one day become to help their empire, their tallest, who were like older brothers you wanted to make proud, if they were comparing things to earth customs. 

Zim had had mentors and bosses and people he’d admired in his own way. But, no one had ever been like a parent to him. And he’d never felt he was missing anything except now, looking at earthings and their stupid weak feelings…of watching videos in health class, of mothers looking down at their new born worm baby (of course he also felt nausea and fear) but, there was also little whispers of longing. Sometimes he’d have to wait around during parent teacher conferences or after school for make up tests or something and he’d look up and see someone picking up their kids with a big smiling face and parent and offspring would talk and laugh and a pang of something unnameable would grow in his chest until he scowled and turned away.

They watched a stupid movie in literature class where the parent tucked his kids into bed and the mother kissed the little girl on her forehead…he’d watched with rapt attention. Everyone else seemed to think it was normal. Did all…parents do this strange nighttime ritual? 

Zim remembered the robo-parents and how fairly worthless they were. They were cold and metal. The last time he’d attempted to make them more lifelike, it had turned into a disaster that had nearly blown his cover. There’d been smoke, screaming and plenty of nightmares to come after that. 

But, after the video he’d gone home and done some tinkering, to heighten emotional inputs and outputs. A small pathetic longing had turned into a small experiment. It was for science. He said to himself, putting the finishing touches on robomother. 

The little ‘orphan’ irken crawled into his resting chamber, a bed as humans called it, and waited with baited breathe. The robots came to life and the father, pipe in mouth, hummed a tune as he jerkily drew up the covers over the tiny alien. They went a little too high and covered his face. Zim pushed them down a bit and waited, wearily.

The Robo-dad tucked the covers around the aliens little body. Then robo-mom wheeled herself over to her faux son, a metal smile on her face before she bent and gave Zim a small kiss on his forehead. It was cold and the sound didn’t mean that the action was real.

Together they chimed, ‘Good night, Son!’ before rolling off, their duty done. And it was that, a duty. Something Zim had programmed them to do. And for some reason that seemed to make the whole action moot. He didn’t feel any better, any less…empty than he had before. With a confused humph, he sunk down into the softness of his resting station and switched his pak to sleepmode. 

\--

_Hating Gym class_

\--

Zim hated it because his wig bounced around when he ran. He hated it because the humans were somehow faster than him. Because he refused to remove his uniform and because of that, he often got too hot and sweaty. He hated it because the kids made fun of his height and how slow he ran with his smaller legs.

Dib hated it because the kids were annoying and they either tried too hard or they didn’t try at all. He hated it because it was all so…meaningless. They should teach them to dodge and weave against an attack, or how to outrun a pursuer. Not baseball or whatever new game it was. He hated it because he was awkward and clumsier than he used to be.

They were both chosen last when it came to team sports. Then when it came to partner activities no one wanted them so, they were forced to be together. It always ended up as a disaster of course. Everything turned into a competition of who was better, humans or irkens. A battle for earth. Even though it was only a game of Frisbee or basketball, it was the final battle for dominance. Not only that but, they were both terrible at sports.

Zim because he a. hated getting hot or sweaty and b. because he had no idea how the sports worked. Dib sucked at them because he was awkward and gangling and because he was never listening to the instructions. 

So, even though they both wanted to win, they were both equally bad so it still ended up being a tie. And since they were often picked last when it came to team sports,they usually ended up on the bleachers together, arms crossed and glaring at the kids running around on the field. 

It always turned into bickering. Until they were finally called onto the field and then they played harder than anyone else. They also usually played wrong. Then they would end up wrestling and dragged off the playing field, sometime sent to the councilor or to the principals office, depending on the severity. 

At least that was how it happened a couple years ago. Now, Dib was older. Wiser. And Zim was well…he was a little more weary. So, they were still picked last for team sports and they still ended up as partners. But, they’d discovered their mutual hatred for the class and as it always went, whenever they found themselves at odds with something outside of each other, they teamed up. So, during Gym Class there existed a temporary truce. They discovered that once they actually paid attention and worked together, they managed to be a decent team. 

So decent, that despite their freak status, they were no longer picked last and a few times they got asked to be part of a group. Except, that truce still held and they refused. As much as they hated working together, they hated their fellow peers more. 

\--

_Good at math vs. Not good at math_

\--

Zim considered himself a master at many things; things like being a irken invader, pretending to be a smelly human, fixing broken things, breaking things, and science. Dib considered Zim to be a huge idiot. And he would be right about that. But, when it came to math he was about as stupid as they came. 

Zim had never liked numbers. They were too vague. And yet, here was his mortal enemy, with an A in a pathetic subject. Zim had to beat him. So, he tried. Spent hours studying, researched and even tried to download stuff into his pak. None of it worked. So, eventually the teacher realized (a huge feat considering all the teachers were pretty much blind) that Zim was having troubles. He looked around the room for someone to tutor him. It had to be someone really good at math. Someone patient. Someone who had nothing better to do. Dib sunk into his chair…and Mr. Portocluous picked him to be the irken's unlucky tutor. 

So, every day during class, instead of learning that day’s lesson (Dib already knew the textbook forward and backwards) he would sit in the corner with his unwilling student and try his best to explain mathematics to an alien who had never been taught simple math.   
They had to start at the basics. It wasn’t that Zim couldn’t count. But, he was impatient and was always looking for a shortcut. He was antsy and unwilling to listen. And earth math, when translated was just a bit wonky. 

For the most part, Zim understood the English language (there were times when the translation was a tad bit off or when there was nothing to compare it too in irken he was confused like the word ‘cute’ for example) but, with math…he had nothing to compare it to. So, it was doubly hard. Add on things like imaginary numbers and outliers and Pi and Zim was a frustrated mess. 

When Zim got angry he got really angry. He got destructive and impatient. When he was frustrated he got angry. When he felt like it was his fault, something it was hard for him to admit to, he just got down right impossible to talk to. He would deny everything.

Once, he pretended like he had no idea who Dib was just to get out of working on algebra. 

Today seemed like it would be one of those days where Dib would attempt to talk at his alien counterpart only to fail miserably and spend the rest of the period, staring at the wall, imagining making Zim eat the class textbook one page at a time. It was a nice dream. 

\--  
 _Space_  
\--

Astronomy was hell for a lot of the kids because the teacher would ask a question and even before it was done, two hands would shoot up; one of them gloved, slightly clawing the air and the other, five finger reaching for the ceiling, greedily. They always knew the answers. It was because it was a subject both of them loved. 

Space. The vast universe and all its mysteries. They never knew how at the same time each night, they would both look up at the sky and search the heavens for something greater than themselves. Zim searched for irk even though he knew it was impossible to see his home plant so far away. Dib searched for some sign, for some strange object, for the mysteries in the stars.

The inky blackness, interrupted by shining dots of dead and dying stars. Or a giant, flaming ball of rock and ice streaking across the sky. Past the clouds and smog, lie nebulae and planets with other life forms or with gas rings and diamonds everywhere. Where it rained glass or where purple seas lapped alien shores.

Zim knew some of what was out there. The irkens had been searching the universe for…thousands years. .. It was their advantage, as a species that had been one of the first in the universe to discover how to successfully travel in space and colonize close by planets. Because of that, exploration was a huge job in his race. They had a decent size portion of the universe mapped out. In their records they knew of 23,092,893 planets. And about a quarter of those held some sort of sustainable life. And a quarter of that held intelligent life. 

And so far the Irkens had conquered almost a fourth of them. Most were the uninhabitable planets or the ones that were easily attainable. He’d studied the universe in the academy. Learned the names of planets and galaxies. He’d memorized the ones that had been added to their empire, thanks to the brave invaders. For a while he’d even been part of an exploration team. It had been fun until he’d been kicked out of the team for…some reason. He vaguely remembered lots of explosions and yelling. Meh.

To Zim, space was opportunities, a way of gaining what he truly felt was owed to him. But, it was also probably the only thing he truly found to be beautiful, aside from destruction and himself. He was fond of the idea that he came from stars, the same things that could envelop a planet whole without mercy.


	15. Lingerings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dad, do you know what this means? This device... it IS ZIM. It's his brain and his life support. That means his body is just.... something to carry his PAK around. --'Ten Minutes to Doom' Transcript.
> 
> \--
> 
> It's hard to hate someone when you understand them.

There were times, mostly whenever Dib was nearing the edge of unconsciousness when memories that weren’t his own invaded. It had been years ago, near the beginning of their rivalry. Dib had played a prank. Zim’s pak had detached from his back. Young and eager, he’d taken it without a second thought. To study, to bring to his dad in an attempt to show him the truth. It was the right thing to do. It was alien technology and not only that it was Zim’s and Dib was willing to take anything from Zim.

The thing had then proceeded to attach itself to him in the middle of a city bus. He was the nearest host. The data had begun to stream its way inside of him, flooding his personality while people watched with wide eyes as he struggled to get it off to no avail. Soon Dib was speaking like his enemy and the voice inside his head wasn’t his own but, Zim’s. And then before he could do anything about it he _was_ Zim. With all his memories and ideas, horrible as they were. When the pak was removed, the irken left him. Most of him did anyway. 

Dib still had dreams, at least that’s what he preferred to call them, of a crowded, colorful planet with a tiny sun and four moons. It was Irk. He just knew it was. Something about feeling like he belonged and yet, like an outcast. LIke how Dib felt about earth. He could still taste irken soda despite never having had it before. Much sweeter. With a different type of bubbly feeling that didn't vaguely sting. He could remember standing side by side with fellow irkens as they waited to be measured, fidgeting in line. The new tallest would be decided. Despite himself he had the audacity to hope. One day he could be... Dib could remember breathing different air from different planets on different assignments. Of purple skies, of gigantic plant forms. 

Small things. But, they left him with an understanding of Zim that he hadn’t had before. Dib tried to write down the occurrences but they were so faint, so hard to describe scientifically that he often found himself staring down at a blank sheet of paper or at a blinking cursor on Microsoft word. 

Dib wondered, if his brain had managed to hold onto vestiges of Zim, then maybe the pak had somehow also taken bits of Dib with it. He wondered if Zim was getting flashes of memory too. He could ask the irken. But, he never would.

\----

Zim ignored it. This wasn’t the first time something had gone wrong with his PAK. Young Gaz next to him, as he walked with her to her first day of school. He’d packed her lunch and was smiling because he knew she would do great. Worried because those kids were going to be so scared of her. Of excitement and fear upon seeing something no one else had ever documented. Bigfoot, aliens, ghosts. Of Zim's own face in all its glory. Angry and sad and happy and angry some more. 

Dib. Must’ve fouled up his pak when the little worm had accidently connected with it. Zim had already gone into it several times in an attempt to cleanse the memories. Only when he got there he had no idea how to go about it. He didn’t want to risk utterly erasing his own data. So, they stayed and he did his best to shove them aside when they arose. 

Often in response to something, like walking to skool and remember being beaten up when he, when the Dib was 9. Or smelling popcorn or pizza and even though the nausea arose he knew what it tasted like without the burning sensation. Just small, ridiculous things. 

Dib’s memories weren’t anything like irken ones. They weren’t muted and analyzed of all their meaning before being sent into the brain. They were raw. So bright and colorful and vivid and Zim hated them and he hated the human more for having tainted him in such a way. It wasn’t Dib’s fault but, that didn’t matter to Zim. He was sure his enemy had somehow planned this. To torture him with false memories. 

He now knew things that were worthless to an irken elite; The different classifications of ectoplasmic entities. Yeti trivia. Werewolf identification.  
Zim might've wondered if maybe the human was also having these sorts of memories. But, 1. he was too self absorbed and 2. it was too dangerous to consider.


	16. Dib's Fault

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He had never met anyone as annoying, as utterly frustrating and rage inducing as Dib.

Zim had met many annoying people before. People like Skoodge and 777 and most of his fellow irkens in the Academy who didn't understand genius if it bit their feet off. But, He'd managed to tolerate them. He prided himself on his people skills. 

However, he had never met anyone as annoying, as utterly frustrating and rage inducing as Dib. Dib the boy wonder, Dib protector of earth. Dib with his big head and his glasses. Who could eat earth food so easily, who could stand in the rain without burning. Dib with his ugly clothes and irritating cow lick, the taunting laughter, his smug smile and horrid brown eyes. 

Dib who could fight like an irken but, wasn’t one. Who was a filthy human worm who thought he was better than Zim. Dib who had become an icon of this disgusting little planet. 

Dib who was so annoying, such a big wrench thrown into Zim’s careful planning that he'd become top priority. Conquering earth turned to defeating the human because only then could his true objective be completed. Only then could he claim victory and glory for his empire. 

Except it was impossible. Dib was always too quick, too smart, and it didn't help that around the boy, Zim became so angry so desperate to defeat him that he could hardly think straight.

So, the human slipped through his fingers time and time again and he blamed that on the same human. He blamed the Dib for why he was still here on earth. He blamed Dib for failing a math test. He blamed Dib for his inability to do simple things while in his presence. He blamed Dib for when he missed calls from the Tallest.

Dib’s fault. Always his fault.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short short short  
> but i need to add in small background stuff before getting to serious stuff


	17. The 1000 Times it Was Zim's Fault, and The One Time it Was Dib's

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And at one point both of them thought ‘if only it always went this smoothly’ before quickly banishing it to the back of their minds, angry and only eager to work harder.

It had happened before. More times than either of them would ever care to admit. It started with the Irken Tak. They’d been hostile to each other and their common enemy. Zim knew he couldn’t let the wannabe invader, invade HIS planet. And Dib knew that this alien was a much bigger threat to HIS planet than Zim was. It sucked too, she’d seemed so nice. 

They’d become a team. A very effective team, unstoppable in their combined force. Then after it was over life went back to normal. For a while. In between bouts of hatred, pranks and battles it seemed that fate would have them work together. As when they were transforming into giant bologna (Zim’s fault.), bodies deformed, and resources pooled to try and fix it. 

Together the destroyed a meteor that hurtled towards the earth (that Zim had shook loose from the asteroid belt during their planet battle). There was the giant hamster (that Zim had attached alien devices to) and when Sizzlor sent a whole group of bounty hunters after Zim, and they started recklessly running around, destroying things in their search, Dib gave in and helped send them back into space. Same with the evil Santa. 

Every time they worked together it all seemed to come back to the annoying little irken and Dib had resigned himself to the pattern. And then nearly six years after Zim had walked into Ms. Bitter’s classroom, it was finally Dib’s fault. 

\--  
Dib slipped down the darkened street walls, eyes flickering in every direction, paranoid and actually terrified which was a rare change. These messes he got himself into happened often enough, they were his job, his passion and he was pretty good at cleaning things up, and any danger was usually just directed towards him.   
Not this time. No matter what he did this mess wouldn’t go away. And other people were in danger this time, not just ‘oh they might get fed upon danger’ but, soul stealing, full blown slaughter of innocent (albeit moronic) citizens. Dib was not okay with that kind of responsibility, especially when it was his own fault and a nervous sweat had yet to leave him. 

A rustling sound from behind him had Dib yelping, turning on his heel, arm extended with a baseball bat clutched in his sweaty hands (a relic from his failed attempt at sports in 5th grade). Wildly he glanced about, holding his breath. A cat ran out from behind a trashcan. 

Dib signed and dropped the bat to his side. “Stupid.” Whether he meant himself or the cat was debatable. Two seconds later, it exploded from the alleyway, right next to the trash can, dripping garbage, oozing slime, arms spread wide and reaching for something it couldn’t see, only hear and smell. Dib screamed ( a very manly scream) and ran, ran a with it stumbling behind him, gaping mouth and mindlessly searching. Dib ran all the way to the little green house that glowed nearly imperceptibly (he’d once done a study on it and discovered low amounts of radiation), with a constant feeling of being chased to keep him motivated. 

His hesitation lasted only half a second before Dib skirted up the pathway, gnomes spinning slowly, lasers charging as his fists slammed against the men’s room door.   
“Zim! Zim open up!” The sound of metal scraping against the pavement. Something wet dragging not far behind. It was getting closer. “Answer the damn door!” Dib let the curse word roll past his mouth, panic overwhelming his usual rule of no cussing. He was tempted to bang the bat against the metal door. In fact…Dib lifted his weapon, brandishing it, preparing to—

The door wooshed open, Zim standing there, scowling and wondering why the human was there, annoying him on a weeknight until he saw the bat and screeching, cowering, forgetting that he was a solider of the greatest military in the universe. 

Dib shoved the irken out of way, closing the door behind them. He panted and put his head between his knees, the bat held limply. Zim had gotten over his fear, and had moved on to anger, as he pretended it had never happened. “Dib-Filth, what is the meaning of this? You told me, yourself that humans don’t barge into each other’s homes.”

Dib parted the blinds, attempting to get a glimpse of his pursuer. It was out there. Close by…

“I-I did something. Pissed off a local alchemist that also kind of dabbles in ancient magic,” Dib panted. “Said that his thesis was pure crap, proceeded to prove it and then kind of broke into his place searching for some stuff that had gone missing from my personal collection…” It was hard to swallow, Dib realized, wishing he had some water but knowing there was a fat chance of that now that he was in Zim’s base. “And now... he’s sent something after me.”

The irken came up behind him, scowling. “And you brought it here? I do not care about your paranormal dookie.” 

Dib returned the scowl, breaking away from staring out the window at Zim. “It’s not ‘dookie’! You’re paranormal.”  
“Am not. I am Zim.”  
“Who is an alien.”  
“An Irken. You’re the alien.”  
“You’re on MY planet, that makes you the alie—“ Dib held up his hand to stop the impending argument. “Look, this thing is a threat to everyone wh—“

“Good.”

“No! Not good! This thing…is dangerous, powerful. Mindlessly following the orders of its master, who is a very angry, psychopath!” Now Zim just looked intrigued. “No. Stop that. It can’t be controlled by you or anyone else. Only Doctor Bleaker.” 

“Eh.” Zim replied, standing behind Dib and trying to get a looking outside. “And again, Dib-thing…why did you bring it here?” Dib bit his bottom lip. He actually had no idea. Just that he needed help…and Zim had been the automatic answer. They’d figured things out together, hundreds of times, why not now?   
“You’ve screwed up tons of t—“  
“Lies—“

“Oh shut up! You know it’s true. And I guess I…need your help.” Just saying it made his tongue feel dirty and his stomach turn. Zim was silent for a moment which was an odd occurrence in itself. So silent that Dib actually turned to look and there was a sharp, rubber covered finger in his face. 

“HA! Dib-Smell needs help! From Zim! How pathetic—“  
“You ask me for help all the time!”  
“Bald face lies, liar!”  
“Seriously do you want me to punch you?!”

“Just you tr—“Abruptly, the irken cut himself off, sounding like he was choking on his tongue. Dib saw him freeze, looking beyond his shoulder, out the window. Dib didn’t have to turn around to know what was there. It was here, sliding up the pathway, it’s arms extended, mouth gaping. It dripped city waste. That was the thing with golems. They were inanimate, usually unthinking but, for their one goal. Like zombies but, stronger and able to keep going even with a bullet in its head. In this case, he imagined that it’s one goal was somewhere along the lines of, ‘Kill Dib.’

“W-what is that thing!?” Zim screeched, latching onto his arm. 

“Ow. Let go.” Dib grimaced, trying to dislodge sharp claws from his flesh. He failed and gave up. For now. “It’s the thing I was telling you about. And we need to do something about it.”

Zim unhinged himself, flailing over to his couch. He grabbed the edge and pushed it towards the door. Dib helped, pulling it until it nestled snugly against the metal. With that done, the irken put his hands on his hips. “That should suffice.”

“Yeah, it’s great, but it won’t hold forever. I need to fill you in on what exactly it is before we can do anything about it.”

They traversed the passages into Zim’s inner labs. The alien put the house on lockdown, and was now setting the gnomes to maximum defense. On the security camera they watched the golem as lasers rained down upon it with seemingly no effect. Zim had removed his disguise and as always, Dib was struck with a small, manageable shiver at just how…alien his enemy looked. Of course that was kind of a redundant thing to feel but, it just always seemed to take him off guard.  
Zim’s face was carefully arranged into a scowl to mask his fear as he turned to the human boy who was sitting around so uselessly. “Explain yourself, filth.”

“Alright.” He ran a nail bitten hand through his raven hair. “That thing is a golem.”

“Oh yes of course.” Zim replied, blankly.  
“You have no idea what that is.”  
“Of course I do.”

“Uh huh. Well, a golem, well, it’s a long story actually dating all the way back to the late 16th century according to Jewish folk lore but, uh basically it’s a creature created from inanimate matter. Usually clay or stone. This one is made of trash. The thing with golems is that they follow the orders given by their masters very literally.”

Zim’s eyes narrowed. “How do you stop it?”

“Well, there’s supposedly several ways to create and destroy one. I need to know which one Dr. Bleaker used to make it.” 

The irken growled, looking at the screen where the golem, must’ve realized he was having difficulties making progress due to the gnomes and knew that in order to continue on with its mission must destroy them. So, it did. Engulfing and obliterating each one. Crumpling them up like wads of paper. The little alien made a sound half way between a squeak and a growl. 

He turned to Dib with anger in his claret eyes. “Why should I help you? You brought that thing here!”

“Oh my god. Because you’re always messing up and I’m always there to help your sorry hide. Plus, I know about his guy’s plans. He’s planning on doing some bad stuff. Stuff like enslaving human minds.”

Zim was on a teeter totter between being excited about humans coming to harm and the desire to be the one to do it. His own greediness won out and he waved his arms around and let out a noise of ancient frustration. “Fine! What do we do?”

\--

It was easy enough once they managed to figure out the method Dr.Bleaker had used to create the golem. And like they had plenty of times before they defeated their common enemy with brutal efficiency. It was always so weird how much they got done. When they worked alone, well with Zim he always had a flaw in his plan. A fatal flaw that toppled everything. With Dib no one ever believed him, thinking he was lying or insane. Dib made sure to check and re check everything they did and Zim managed to get everyone to actually listen to them. 

It was kind of heady, having everything go so well. And at one point both of them thought ‘if only it always went this smoothly’ before quickly banishing it to the back of their minds, angry and only eager to work harder.

Their enemy cowered before them and the two exchanged a matching grin that was immediately forgotten in favor of destroying anything he could use to fight them. The good doctor was left to clean up their mess and Dib confiscated all his dangerous materials as well as the ones that had been stolen from his own stores and he made a mental note to add Bleaker to the list of people, creatures and places to watch very, very carefully.

It wasn’t until they parted ways, that Dib remembered everything he’d tried to forget. How easily they worked together. How it felt to actually have someone at his back and listening to him (even if that same someone also got on his nerves and insulted him every chance they got). How he looked down at the doctor that had tried to kill him and ruin lives stare back up at them and curse them. How he felt exhilarated and looked at Zim only to find his emotions reflected back at him. 

Dib tried to shove those memories away. But, they returned each time they teamed up for something, even if it was a small something like cheating on an impossible chemistry test.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> nearing the end of this section of the story.


	18. A New Mission-Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dib wasn’t the hero who was going to save earth. At least in this case. He was a young boy who loved the paranormal. Who was too serious and too angry and too unemotional about a lot of things. He was too harsh on himself and others. Dib wasn’t going to save everyone. He had to save himself first.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Almost done. Also this takes place a few years after the last part.
> 
> Beta'd by StoneCatcher~ Thanks dahlin'.

He’d always sort of known. Known that Zim wasn’t the most evil creature in the whole universe. Known that the little alien wasn’t the best at following through with his brilliant take over the world schemes. Or at keeping said schemes from falling apart at the seams. Zim’s problem was that he had a blind spot where failure stared back at him, unamused and ready once again to knock over the irken’s most brilliant plans like dominoes.

Zim never realized that it was over till he was surrounded in shambles and even then he made himself believe that it had been the desired result anyway. It was a routine as the councilor had once said to him. He couldn’t remember her name. She’d been nice enough. That had been several years ago.

Dib tapped his fingers against the fake wood of his desk. On the computer screen, a picture of outer space swirled in nebulae. He’d been sitting here long enough for the screen saver to activate. Here he was, once again letting himself analyze the irken. After he’d forced himself to promise he would stop. The image of space disappeared almost startlingly and a small beep signaled a new email. It could be from the swollen eyeballs. Or his dad about dinner plans or the cancellation of dinner plans. But, he knew instinctively who it was from.

The teenager, 19 years old, sat up straight from where he’d been slouching in his chair. There was a problem. Wasn’t there always one? Dib was taking the idea of no longer being responsible for the fate of the world rather well. It was as if a gigantic weight had been lifted off his shoulders. Not that he didn’t care about the world any more. He still searched for paranormal problems, saved as many people he could from being eaten by yetis, from making big mistakes in haunted houses, performed exorcisms, got rid of goblins and the like. But, none of it was on such a grand scale as epic space battles. And while he sometimes missed feeling super duper important, he did not miss feeling so shitty all the time.

Dib clicked on the email with trepidation. Others were not taking it so well.

* * *

 

 **From** : _this-is-a-human-email@gmail.com_ (Zim Lastname)

 **To** : _agent.mothman@gmail.com_ (Dib Membrane)

 

Answer me or else

-ZIM

 

* * *

 

Dib sighed and ran a nail bitten hand through his messy hair. At first, when he’d intercepted the Tallest’s transmission and had listened to them...listened to them so blatantly not care about what Zim was saying...it was obvious that his rulers couldn’t care less about Earth. It was kind of like 7 years of his life had been essentially rewritten to turn the two of them; enemies, hero and villain into fools.

He’d felt a variety of emotions, hunkered in his room, barely listening to what the screen before him said.

Nausea, numbness, denial.

He’d walked around the dark confines of his room, thinking, thinking. He replayed the video of the tallest so blatantly mocking their supposedly ‘finest solider’ according to Zim. He lost count of how many times he listened to their voices, sniggering and joking. Because it had been a big joke, hadn’t it?

Anger. Hatred.

How could Zim stand there and let them say these things? How could he be so stupid? How could Dib have been so stupid? Who were these guys to say that their mission, a battle for man kind, was a ruse? He replayed that part over and over too. They said it so easily. Like they knew Zim wouldn’t believe them and he didn’t. The stupid idiot went on talking, laughing it off like a inside joke. That was probably what he thought it was. A run on joke.

Dib’s fists were white ,they were clenched so hard. In that instant he hated Zim more than anything for being so blind. He hated the tallest for sending him here. He hated himself for wasting so many years, for staying awake so many countless nights, thinking he was important.

And for the briefest of hours...sadness.

Because Dib had indeed spent years thinking he was something he wasn’t. Starving himself because he was too busy spying. Staying awake too long because Zim didn’t sleep. And even later when things weren’t full of venom, but their silly routine, he still spent so much time being angry. Dib’s hands had shook and he’d turned off his computer and lay down in bed. A thousand thoughts shook him and he tossed and turned, flip flopping between emotions till finally a sense of something... overwhelmed him.

It was hard to describe because up until then he’d never quite felt it before.

Acceptance? Peace?

Dib wasn’t the hero who was going to save earth. At least in this case. He was a young boy who loved the paranormal. Who was too serious and too angry and too unemotional about a lot of things. He was too harsh on himself and others. Dib wasn’t going to save everyone. He had to save himself first.

Zim wasn’t an evil master mind who was backed by a giant armada of equally as evil aliens. He wasn’t insane or immortal or ready to bring down doom upon anyone’s heads. He was brilliant and yet limited by his own denial and eagerness to rush into something without first checking it over again. He never learned. He was sad and perhaps lonelier than Dib, who had a sister and a father and an organization of people who at least - on some level - respected him. Zim had no one, except maybe Gir.

Dib drifted into sleep, filled with strange colors and flashes of images that made no sense. He was thrust into chaos and forced to realize that everything was different now. And yet he woke up feeling better than he had in a long time.

At first he’d decided to cut Zim out of his life completely. Zim was a reminder of how stupid he’d been and Dib didn’t want anything to do with him. He’d done it before. With people who were too clingy, too mean, too ignorant. Except they usually took the hint and left him alone. As Dib had realized long ago, Zim was persistent. He knew what he wanted and never deviated. It was one of the small things Dib admired about him. It was one of things he’d realized they had in common. And it was now one of the things that Dib loathed.

That email was one of a hundred. Zim knew on some basic level that something was wrong. He had known years ago, when the human had given up the paranormal for real science, and he knew now. Several attempted break-ins, hundreds of emails, and lots of phone calls. He used to come up to yell at Dib at school except now they’d graduated and there was no opportunity to corner him in the hallways or throw notes across the classroom.

That had been a surreal day. Graduation from Hi Skool, as he’d stood surrounded by the people who had tortured him, and yet he’d been unable to stop remembering the tiniest of good things. Of Zita smiling at him every day. Of Gretchen asking him to prom. Of the Letter M standing up for him in gym. Of Torque Smacky picking him first for football. It hadn’t been all bad. And even the people who had hated him and picked on him, were affectionate that day. It was bright outside, so bright everyone squinted as the speeches carried on. Zim was in the way back, and Dib at the way front. He made a point to avoid looking any where near the alien.

It ended and they all threw their caps in the air and cheered and Dib was jostled and clapped on the back. Everyone was relieved and excited and sad. It was an end. And a beginning. Dib swore he would never look back and as he exited the stadium, Gaz on one side and his father on the other, he never looked around to check if Zim was doing something nefarious.

Yet here he was,looking back. Dib held his head in his hands. Zim refused to be forgotten. And he found himself unable to stop thinking about stupid things. About how he knew Zim’s favorite flavor of soda. About the time Zim had saved his life. About working together towards a common goal, and how together they could do anything. About a Venn-diagram filled with reasons why they were similar, bigger than why they were different.

It was really sad and endlessly silly to think about how Zim was the closest thing Dib might’ve had to a friend. And Dib had never needed friends. He had something he was passionate about, things he loved and things he hated and a sense of purpose. But, he missed bickering and walking home together, even if it was because they needed to watch each other out of suspicion. He missed knowing he could run to someone and they would believe him.

But, even if say... he wanted Zim to be his friend, which he wasn’t saying he was... well, friends didn’t hate each other. Friends didn’t physically fight. Friends didn’t battle for the fate of the world. Friends...well, unless Dib was completely wrong about friendship, friends were... people who helped each other and hung out and entertained each other and supported each other.

Dib wasn’t sure if such a thing between the two of them was possible or even if he wanted it to be possible. Maybe it never would be. Maybe he would have to be satisfied with being an acquaintance. An ally. They had been allies before. That was familiar, it was safe. Yes, allies. Nice and distant, a little smaller of a step.

Dib spun in his chair, the various colors flying before his eyes. Mostly black, mostly blue, mostly dark and he stopped spinning. He knew he would never completely get Zim out of his life. The alien was here to stay. He was stuck here, with a fake mission. And he was never going to stop bothering him. Dib could do with an ally. He crossed his arms, brow furrowed. But, the only way that would ever happen would be if Zim gave up his own mission, gave up on hating earth, on fighting him. Dib shook his head, knowing immediately it would never come to pass. Yet it nagged at him. Maybe... maybe if Zim found a different mission... something else to motivate and drive him. Dib always felt listless and dead without something to pursue. Zim was much the same way.

Dib thought and thought. He turned back to the computer and began to type out a reply to the irken, the first time he’d actually responded in a almost a year.

* * *

 

 **To:** _this-is-a-human-email@gmail.com_ (Zim Lastname)

 **From:** _agent.mothman@gmail.com_ (Dib Membrane)

 **_Subject:_ ** Breaking

 

 

Zim,

       There, you got me to answer you. Now chill and stop sending me emails.

I want to talk to you. On common, neutral ground. Meet me at the old Walsman office building in the old part of town.

You remember the one? Where you had giant rats that went rouge and we had to kill them and then you saved me from falling to my death? That one.

I’ll be there at approx. 11 am tomorrow morning.

This is a casual visit. No weapons. No ulterior motives.

-Dib

* * *

 


	19. A New Mission-Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the smallest voice, the Irken asked, “What?”
> 
> Dib smiled a very soft, small smile. “ A new mission.”

Dib arrived early. The building creaked and groaned around him, still unstable. Some ten feet away, debris lay strewn about; a reminder of the two falling through the ceiling, nearly adding a stain to the disgusting, molded carpet. 

His train of thought was disrupted by the familiar sound of tiny, sharp heels on the sidewalk; the concrete outside. Then, of doors squeaking and opening. Dib turned and stood up straight, as his once worst enemy walked in. He looked awful. Dark circles surrounded those big eyes, and his wig wasn’t in the best state. It looked... matted. Zim was skinnier than he remembered, too. The Irken stopped in his tracks and raised his chin upon seeing Dib. It was like he hadn’t truly expected him to be there. 

“Dib.” That high and strangely accented voice declared. 

“Zim.” He replied, out of habit. Bad habits were so easy to fall back into. He cleared his throat. It was dusty in here. Dib shoved his hands into his pockets and looked away. This was awkward, wasn’t it? For several moments, only noises of rats in the walls spanned between them. “I--” Dib began, then stopped. Where to start? “I bet you have questions.”

Zim blinked, and his sudden reverence over seeing his enemy again turned to anger. He snarled. “No. Why would I have questions? You only up and started acting like a smeet again!” Dib watched his tiny hands flail with rage. “Ignoring me! Running off and... and investigating stuff and--not Zim! Not me!” He scoffed. “As if... I... as if I was not worthy of being investigated, of being--” The Irken turned on his heel and began to pace, face flushed with anger. “-- of being your enemy! You... you have no idea, you horrible... puny brained... what is your excuse, huh Dib?” 

Zim got up in his face, or at least he tried. The alien was about even with Dib’s belly button. “What is your brilliant excuse for ignoring me and not... not hating me?!” He stabbed the human’s chest with his sharp little claw, poking him with each word. 

Dib waved him away, taking a step back for the sake of his own personal bubble. “I don’t really have one? At least none, you’ll like.” Zim scowled. 

“And what does that mean?” Dib opened his mouth to reply. “I don’t care!” The alien interjected, waving his arms and stomping around. Dib sighed inwardly, knowing it might take a while for Zim get his anger good and fully out of his system. Only then would Dib be able to talk to him. 

“I don’t care! I don’t care! I don’t care what you have to say in defense for yourself! You... you pathetic... worm! You... you knew...” Zim choked and shook, voice loud and over bearing. Echoing through the broken ceiling and into the rafters. “How dare you act like I, the Almighty Zim, am not worthy of being fought! I am! I have been and will always be your worst and most vile enemy! Not those goblins or that ghost or whatever other stupid thing you’ve fought! Me!” So, Zim had been spying on him. Figures. 

Zim kicked up dust as he stomped around. “You impudent sack of meat! To think you could just – ugh! – forget me! Like last time... like when you were a stupid child!” he whirled on the human. “Do you remember that Dib?! Did you enjoy your time being into real science and acting like a grown up, so high and mighty.” Zim spat, not waiting for an answer to his questions. 

It had to have been at least an hour before Zim stopped to breathe, deflating and his ranting turned to soft mumbles. When he finally fell silent, Dib let the aftermath of quiet wash over them. He sat down on the filthy carpet and Zim; taking it as permission to admit this small amount of weakness - joined him. 

There were birds somewhere in this building, chirping and singing to each other. Dib sighed and finally spoke after a while. “Zim... I... stopped fighting you. Not because you’re not worthy of it or anything but, because...” He had to phrase this carefully. “Because I tapped into your transmissions between you and the Tallest...” A quick glance showed no surprise registered on Zim’s face. “And I well...”Oh spit it out. “Your mission is fake, Zim. And that means mine is too. And I wasn’t going to waste any more of my life fighting for nothing.” 

This time he got to watch the denial click in place. It was as if a shield had gone up right before his eyes. Zim’s whole demeanor changed as the wall he’d resurrected for himself took over. He laughed and made a motion like he was swatting off a pesky fly. “Oh Dib. You merely heard an inside joke. The tallest are big kidders. Especially with me. We go way back.” 

Dib gathered his patience. He had known this wouldn’t be easy. “No. Look Zim, look at me.” He waited till those weird eyes were on him. “I’ve lied to you before. Lots of times. But, never about anything important. I’ve gone to you with things I was way in over my head with, and when you made a mess or had someone trying to kill you... well, I helped you. I’ve saved your life, Zim. And you’ve saved mine.” He took a breathe and tried to look deep into Zim’s eyes; to see past the fake contacts and the emotional barrier he’d resurrected for his own sanity. 

“I know. I know what this meant to you, right? I heard it.” He spoke quietly, his voice still sounding too loud as it reverberated off the walls. “A transmission. And I know that this... this was your last chance. To... prove yourself? ” Something was registering there. Zim’s face was no longer goofy and smiling as if he was brushing off something silly. 

“Zim, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for ignoring you. But, I truly, and honestly, couldn’t live with a lie. It wasn’t a joke, Zim. It hasn’t been a joke. The way they talked to you...treated you like you were stupid and like something to be brushed off...” Dib shook his head. “You’re not. You’re a huge jerk and super egotistical. You make these huge mistakes that can easily be prevented but, you’re also really, really smart, Zim. You’re brave And you go after what you want no matter what.” 

Zim was looking away, face impassible. “I know that's why this mission means so much to you.” He looked down at his own hands, thinking. “You deserve more than what they give you.”

“L-liar!” Zim barked, looking like he wanted to stand and yell some more. But, he voice sounded hoarse. “The Tallest...they’re benevolent! They gave me this chance! This mission. They are almighty and-and you speak ill of them!” He sneered and turned away from the human.

“I know you care for them. You have to. It’s how you were conditioned. But, Zim... take a second and... trust me like you have before. This mission... given to you by your Tallest... I heard it all. Given a mission on a planet no one has ever heard of, sent to the far reaches of the galaxy. They never intended you to return. You were meant to fail.” Dib felt his voice growing a bit louder. “They’re afraid of you, they hate you because you’re... different.” 

Zim shook his head. “No.”

“Yes. They gave you a fake mission to get you off their backs, to make you disappear.”

Zim’s eyes squeezed shut. “No!”

“Yes! Zim, you have to realize--”

The little Irken jumped up and growled, fists clenched. “No! You’re a liar! You’re trying to make me weak and... and make me fail!”

Dib also stood, but slower so he didn’t make Zim feel like he was a threat. “I’m not lying. You’re not weak. You’re strong. Stronger than they know. You don’t need them! You never have. You’ve always been cast aside, told you weren’t important because of your height. But, you proved them wrong, didn’t you? You told me yourself. You were the smallest scientist in your rank. You’ve made people fear you and hate you because you’re smart and volatile and dangerous.” He inched closer to the Irken who was shaking; hands shaking, head shaking. 

“You’re brilliant and you do deserve better than a fake mission. Than two leaders who have never lead you any where but to pain. Than hating yourself and feeling alone and afraid all the time. You are Zim. And I... I have a proposition.”

Zim was shaking so badly, having closed his eyes in the process. However, when he finally opened them, Dib could see that carefully built wall was crumbling. The denial was fading, even if just for now. Dib had managed to break it down. All of what Zim was was up in the air. He was vulnerable and Dib had power here. 

With the smallest voice, the Irken asked, “What?”

Dib smiled a very soft, small smile. “ A new mission.”

Zim looked confused and hurt and suspicious. “What?” A bit louder.

Dib took another small step forward, towards the broken alien. “We’ve been allies before. We can be so again.” Another step. Bridging the gap. Of human and alien. Of hero and villain. “I fight evil things all the time. I help people. And I need help... Look, I know it might be a lot harder for you than it was for me. But, this is real. I’ve seen you help people before anyway. You’ve helped me.” 

Another small step. Zim’s eyes were open wide now. He was thinking, he was close to tears; so stupid. And he was thinking about how he’d always found Irk too cold. How the faces all around him had always stared down at him. How he’d always wanted to prove himself: Be taller and louder and make them hear and see that he was the best. He was thinking of their faces, long and judging. Twin eyes, but one was red and the other purple. 

Dib searched the Irken's face. “I know its not the same. Its not universal conquest, or for your empire. But, it would be for you. You could do something important. And it would be 100% real. And we would do it... together. Allies.” 

Zim heard himself breathing and when his vision refocused he saw Dib, too tall and too loud. Dark clothes and dark hair against a paler backdrop. Not Irken. But, a better human. His hands shook a lot. He heard the word allies. He heard the word real. And thought about Earth. How it was too cold and too hot but, also sometimes just right. How the flowers in his backyard were growing in vibrant shades. How the sunset was filled with such color that it always stunned him that something so horrible as the sun, as the sky, as Earth could be... beautiful. He hated this planet and yet, he found himself calling it home on more than one occasion. 

He looked up at Dib and saw someone who he’d watched grow from a tiny boy to a taller boy. They were enemies and Dib had always been there. A constant. Horrible and honest, too honest and Zim couldn’t imagine going on... whether it be on Earth or somewhere else in the universe without looking over and hating that big head. 

His spooch was gross and churning and yet those brown eyes were searching and he felt like it was okay. 

“Allies.” Zim murmured the word. It sounded different than enemies. It sounded like something new. 

Dib breathed a small sigh of relief. He had been afraid Zim had gone into shock. “Yes.”

Zim swallowed and wrapped his arms around himself, subconsciously. The floor was dirty, and it was stuffy in here. It would take more time. Dib would have to remind Zim over and over again that his mission wasn’t real. That Earth was his new mission. And that it was legitimate. That he was no longer alone. That he had an ally. 

It would take a long time. But, over all...it would be okay. 

Slowly, subtly, Zim nodded in agreement. Dib smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Almost done. And Thanks to my babe StoneCatcher for beta-ing this mess.


	20. Truce

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is an official, binding document stating that Dib (of Earth) and Zim (of Irk) are in a truce,meaning they no longer will fight over earth.

This is an official, binding document stating that Dib (of Earth) and Zim (of Irk) are in a truce,meaning they no longer will fight over earth.

Zim will not try to destroy, take over or enslave the planet or its people and Dib will not harass Zim or alert any of his contacts/sources to Zim’s presence on Earth.

 

 

**Below lies additional conditions:**

•Zim will not conduct experiments of any kind on humans.

•Dib will no longer say the words Autopsy and Zim in the same sentence.

~~•Dib will delete all his information on Zim.~~

•Dib will allow Zim to see his information and together they will decide what is harmful to his place on earth.

~~•Zim will tell Dib about his conversations with the Tallest.~~

•Zim will give Dib a summary about his conversations with the Tallest when it involves Earth.

~~•Dib will shrink his giant head.~~

~~•Zim will stop being such a jerk.~~

•They will be civil.

 

If any of these conditions is proven to be broken, this contract and by extension the truce will be void.

 

**Signed:**   X _Dib_  X _Zim_

 

**Amendments:**

-General arguments and the occasional agreed upon fist fight are allowed so long as neither party sustains lasting damage i.e. broken bones

-Dib won’t use emotes in his texts.

-Or I.M.s

-Or emails.

-Zim won’t throw things at Dib’s head.

-Unless the situation is dire.

-Together they will defend the earth from ANY threat.

~~-So pretty much Dib will defend earth and Zim will tag along and ruin everything.~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, there we go. The end of part one. Finally. Literally started this in 2011. And I'm afraid the first chapters reflect that. 
> 
> Oh well. I don't want to spend another second on this story. Part 2 will be started shortly. 
> 
> Thank you so much for all the comments, kudos and support! <3


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